The Pen vs. the Sword

I work for a newspaper. I revel in creative writing classes. I collect quotations and song lyrics that I like and hang them on my walls. I read voraciously. I can spend hours in a bookstore. I spend my life, as of now, changing, manipulating, caressing other people's words to make them perfect.

I believe in words. In the power of language -- of what we say and how we say it -- to transform the world. To change what people feel and what they do. Clearly, words are no substitute for action, but I truly believe in the power of words to make a difference.

Except when they're not enough. When those words that are supposed to make it all better seem hollow and meaningless. Too little too late, perhaps. Or maybe they never could be enough. Maybe I fool myself into thinking that all you needed to do was say it, that if you said it and meant it, then it would be enough. Then we could live all live happily ever after.

And I do believe you meant it. But it's not enough. It rings hollow because it doesn't matter. Because no matter what you said or meant, it can't change the world. It can't make it all better. It can't make anything better.