The Language of Words

I began writing poetry around age 9, because there was no other way to express what I saw going on in my home. It was not possible to speak with either parent as mine were caught up in the drama of their chaotic and violent marriage. In that environment, I was left alone to think and recreate a different world, in some instances the alternative is peaceful and comforting, often it is similarly violent and expressed using language or other forms of art and music. Having a means to speak of what you witness as a child makes us the lucky ones. Others turn to substance abuse or perpetuate the feelings of impotence (powerlessness)by uncontrolled rage and abuse in their adult relationships. In thinking about the search for 'happiness' today I couldnt help but read the many posts on a website where people of different cultures, faiths and lifestyles have come together to communicate or find something...for some people, perhaps it is happiness they are seeking, for others maybe just information. But I always think, no I am certain, that language is both an instrument of communication and also a means of obsfucation, cloaking, hiding, deceiving...and I dont think the latter is always intentional. Just as we dress a certain way that we want the world to perceive us, so too we speak and say things that furthers the impression we want to leave someone with. My fascination with language and the Other-the unknown of my Self/Ego/Id and other Selves around me had me understand that language often meant little or nothing, it was not real, not dependable, in fact the language used often meant the very opposite of the words spoken. And this has been confirmed many times in traveling, living with other cultures, faiths and people. Are we to believe that there is a universal thread through all peoples, where people desire and strive to attain a state in life where they can say their desires are fulfilled either monetarily, emotionally or physically? If we are to believe that all people are using language to meet a desire and find happiness, this means to get from Point A to Point Z takes alot of language, millions of words, are needed to convey messages that will take a person where he needs to go, to work and play, to where he wants to do these acts, to be with a mate he feels is the one he desires, the one that makes him feel 'happy' Language viewed this way and used this way is not primarily contemplative, it must be aggressive by nature as it is always active, accruing, moving toward a goal. In later studies I read that the notion of language being schizophrenic and being used to manipulate one's surroundings is a form of domination, a driving characteristic within capitalist societies. Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari explain this hodge podge of thought much better than I can, and had already done so in their classic book Capitalism and Schizophrenia. When I discovered 2 Frenchmen had already discovered and written about the accepted abuse of language, I experienced 'Happy.' My happiness was in the recognition that 2 men I would never meet, speak with, learn with, had experienced the very same dislocation of mind/Self that I had as a child. The marriage of postmodern philosophy and Laconian theory. We, we of Western thought, impose our preconceived notions of what is desire, what is human need on everything and everyone we come into contact with. So what "I" desire is presumably what you desire...right? We see this contemporarily with the export of "the democratic society" being thrust on Afghanistan, Iraq...we are trying hard with Libya, Egypt is slipping between our fingers as Mubarak fades and the constituents of Gaza are piecing together what they desire for a homeland but whether they will define democracy by Western standards is to be seen. The clash of who desires what and how desire is defined by different cultures can be rediscovered in a microcosm of an internet page where people say one thing, claim to desire a thing or a state of being and their words belie their actions. A convergence of comments that toss ideas around with words that leave one asking--Why speak of what has already been said, what is already and readily available to read and study and why are people coming to confess their misery and sins in a very public forum not unlike a public square where the sinner is flogged and asking to be healed, desiring a kind of 'happy' state via a public disclosure of their current Selves and hopefully emerging with a newer and better self, a happy Self. But absolution is no longer possible, because we have completely turned language into a farce, an empty gesture, a mere verbal pat on the back that actually encourages more injurious behavior because Every-Word-Spoken Is Not-The-Truth. We may not say what is on the tip of our tongues, not due to ettiquette for humans have lost any sense of that, but because we dont dare say you are acting like an ass, you are being selfish and self centered, you are bloated with your own Self leaving no room for anything or anyone else to come close...okay I'm guilty of some of this, so my stones are thrown but my house is not made of glass, I'm well aware. I want to ask the overweight mentally ill young woman who has announced she wants to 'cut' herself to thousands of people on the internet page, what drives her to exhibit herself in the town square? But I dont have a chance to do so because she then announces, 'I cut myself and now feel better.' Which is followed later by a question of how does she protect her privacy, after all not everything she writes should be public fodder, she says. But precisely what she desires is to exhibit her pain, to find someone who can diminish it, tell her she is beautiful and desired, someone who will make her "happy." To say "I am alone, that the pain of loneliness is more than a weight imaginable, that I no longer know what touch of another feels like, this pain doesnt allow me to breathe, to think clearly or at times even allow me to move...I am consumed by aloneness, frozen in thought, time and space...but what I say to you is the Truth. I do not desire happiness for I do not yet know what that is, what is means, what it brings-other than what I see others around me consumed with and calling happiness, and I do not like what I see, I do not want what they desire and do not need it. And perhaps and because some of us cannot use language in a way that has been corrupted, turned inside out on itself, distorted into lies despite the obvious truth that conflicts with simultanenous statements, perhaps that explains why loneliness persists, nay it flourishes, in a very public and increasingly tiny world that is crowded with personal confessions that finally disclose nothing to make a life with or to recognize as someone to be with.