On May 1, 2007 by alinaki
i hate words.
i hate them for being so limited and so deceiving.
i was never able to tell Dan i loved him. it sounded so strange. and yet i did, from all my heart. neither my grandma or grandpa. and now, i wish i would have whom to say. limited as it would have been. i was never able to call my dad on his name till he passed away. yet, he was my best friend. i guess “dad” was to me that feeling of belonging which i needed so much. but underneath this, he was “Dan”.
i hated explanations when i was wrong. justifying myself for a mistake meant nothing. words were nothing. but the mistake was. i hate “i’m sorry”. and i hate “forgive me”. perhaps i am a little selfdestructive. or maybe a lot. but i thought excusing myself was even more mean. and when i wasn’t wrong, trying to explain or convincing the other felt useless. i felt like she/he shoud have known.
i hate the”i would” tense. it gives you, and yet it takes everything. leaving only the “but i don’t”.
and it is so final. it is always the “i don’t”. ” i would” is uselsess. and it hurts more. we could just erase it, and say only what we “do” or “don’t”. prezent, unconditional.
sometimes it can mean a target something you can achieve by trying harder. but i hate it when it means something that will never happen. cause then it makes no sense using it. and yet i use it myself. and i hate it.
i hate words for not being able to forget them.
and i hate them for being the ultimate weapon in hurting someone. we are so ready to say anything, even what we don’t exaclty feel, just “to have the last word” in a dispute, that we don’t have where to come back from. we pass the point of no returning. when arguing, we attack every weakness, every stupid mistake, every feeling, everything the other likes, fears or regrets. and we use words for this. words that cuts through us. words that remain there. words that are clouding the sky, in the most sunny day or hot night. we can never erase them. and i hate it.
and yet, we need to know “why”. we need to hear it being said. no matter what. we need the words. even if we admit it or not.

what i hate most in people is being mean. doing somehting just to hurt another. or saying. and this is what we are when we are arguing. we are being mean. even if we are not. we find it in us, easily and natural, as breathing.

i hate that last word i couldn’t say. not that it would have meant anything. but it leaves me with that feeling… that last cry turned to silence. and then i think that all the words mean nothing. nothing. one night i dreamt i was dying. and i had that feeling of slipping into unconciousness and what scared me most was that i wanted to say something, anyhting to someone and i wasn’t able. this is what i fear most in death. when my grandpa died, i wished he could have heard me. or felt i was there. or know what i was feeling. all that despair for not having able to give more. all the regret. and all the love.
and i fear them. for not being able to always choose the right ones to express what i want. and yet, i play with them like all the rest, twisting them, using them as a weapon, or just to escape. even excuse myself.
perhaps the word i like most is “i hate”. cause i have been using it over and over again. against everything i fear and everything that hurts me. and yet, i cannot hate anything. i love the sky and the sun and the sea and the flowers and people and strawberries with cream and chocolate and the sand and Greece and trees and everything else that it doesn’t remain space enough within for hate. “fear” would be better. “would”.
i am no better than the words i use.

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