Join the Chorus of the Unimpressed

Words are slippery things.
Still, I know which ones are directed at me.
but the funny thing about words is;
connotation.

What you mean and what I hear,
within are the discrepencies.

Words hold connotations.
Not action.
The story of a life (any life)
is the story of emotions
played out over a life span.

So to what end to ignore them?
To rise above the messy and dirty emotions,
the ones that don't make sense
and say "I refuse delivery."

Words are subjective, given meaning by context.
The context of scenario, language, diction, speaker.

No two realities are the same.
Words have no fixed meaning.
We have agreed that "red"
shall pertain to a colour in our society,
but that does not stop it from
connotations of blood and passion
amongst other things.

Words can have weight, but it is inert.
They have no action inherent in them.
They lay, trembling on the page, waiting for someone
to assign meaning.
It is the emotion they convey, stir up,
that initiates action.

Can I help that your words,
with their sliding connotations
have elicited something
other than intended from me?

Is this anyone's fault?
Can blame be affixed to anyone?
Should it?
Ego drives us around, sometimes missing the stops.
Sometimes it pulls them all out.
But to deny ego is to feed it.
To be above ego is to play to ego.

And we all play in the ego mudpit.
Some wade deeply, some only put their toes in,
Sometimes we play nice, sometimes not.
Some need help getting out, some getting in,
but we're all there.

There is, was, nothing nasty intended
not how you have read it
not for you
but those connotations are at work again.

Sometimes I feel as though I can read things
that no one else can see
but the connotations still elude
even occasionally, me.

-Jessica Leigh Feb 2008