I’m from a time where words hurt as much as sticks and stones. The words that emanate from mouths and pens can now lead to the termination of jobs, and the haphazard labeling of people by groups of other people. In a time when words have such power, it’s a shame that it’s not wielded correctly. Words are now a device for certain people to garner control, on the strength of past suffering. They are falsely put into a scope of rigidity, having an end-all-be-all quality.
I want my words to face this climate without fear any of reprisal. I want them to hold pure honesty and emotion, without the weight of ignorance to misdirect them. I want my words to inspire deep thought and reflection, to give a voice to things not often considered, and assuage the fears of standing alone. The words that come from my tongue and my pen have the only true power to represent me, to carry my thoughts and wants into this climate that will surely look to dissect them for things to cut and splay as a headline over a picture of me with my head in my hands. But my words won’t carry any fear of such things, but the virtue of honesty, that will be recognized in others as the shear mark of authenticity. I want my words to tell the stories that I see in my head, and to assist the stories that others wish to bring forth. I want my words to carry this weight, but to stand secondary to the intentions behind them.