words are always seemed as the ultimate way of expression. parents rejoice from their child's first word, people are inspired by words of their leader, sometimes one word can make all the difference in someone's world. charing dialect opens the door to all kinds of things; pity, love and understanding, and also sorrow, idiocy and hate. however, no one can argue that one's feeling to another is probably the best gift humanity could ever ask for, for it gives us a sense that we're not here alone; a bridge to empathy taken for granted. it made me think about why i was always searching for a way or maybe even an excuse for words to mean more then what they actually mean and that maybe put in different order they would mean something more but i have just come to realize that words are just that. i can write something here and mean for it to describe a part of my life but someone, anyone, or you can come and read it and not understand or simply make a random conclusion on the mentioned matter. i can't deny that maybe it's my fault for using metaphors and random play on words and that when i say i love, i don't really mean it, or that when i say we'll see each other soon, it doesn't happen, or that when i say i hate you, i really mean i can't live without the sight of you. And when i write here it's just because, i'm selfish and just i hate my words to be lost in the abyss of my mind, never to be found again, never to be expressed.