On words

I was just reading a friend's blogpost on profanities a few days ago and I started thinking. I never use profanities because I find them distasteful coming from a woman's mouth. Or to be absolutely clear, I use them in my head but never utter them out loud (an emphatic Fuck/fuck it/fuck her /him uttered to myself can go a long ways to letting of steam). But sometimes they seem so much cleaner. Because a profanity uttered out loud is infinitely honest in comparison to untrue words. Like a wound allowed to bleed clean, it frees the one that uses it of negative energy and does not carry the putrefaction of negativity that festers with false assurances that one is not angry.

And then I thought, pofanities are just words at the end of the day. It is how you utter them that makes all the difference. The right inflection and they can go from disgusting to sexy, abuse to endearment. Much like words. And by that measure words can become profanities too. Like a necklace of beads, words strung together aesthetically on a beautiful thoughts can be poetry and inspiration. But haphazardly impale them onto a string of negativity and they can be weapons of abuse and degradation. Ironically both can outlive those who utter them, outlive existence itself...

Once allowed to see the light of day, they become messengers for the people that use them. Carrying love, hate, inspiration... But we who utter them often forget that they also become ambassadors. Carrying the additional hidden message of impressions; good bad and ugly. Impressions that are often bigger than the words because they are dependent on those who receive them to attain their final potential. Received right, words will convey messages to perfection, realizing the reason for their existence. Received wrong, however, they have the potential to destroy. Those who realize this power of words are writers of worth. And for them words unfurl themselves in their full glory.

But words and profanities, unuttered, unwritten are unconceived dialogues that will only give birth to blank pages, empty silences... it is in their diliverance that the true meaning of their existance lies...