Surviving is not Living

A little less talk.

with one comment

I use words. I don’t know big words. I never read the dictionary until recently when the guy in my relationship brought it out to look through. He’s into the etymology of words and I’ve learned quite a bit, but overrall I keep it simple. There are a few friends who, when I speak to them I usually have a dictionary close by or pulled up on the computer so I can look up all the words they’re using in order to understand them. I don’t know big words, but I do know how to craft the words that I do know. I can cut people down, encourage people, explain myself. Maybe that means I’m a writer, because I don’t often have to think much about what I want to say or how I want to say it, it just normally comes, easily and without struggle. And I can ramble on with the best of them. I’m detailed and often will explain myself in three different ways just to make sure that people really know what I’m saying and that I’m not misunderstood. If you’ve read my blog for any amount of time, you’ve seen that. I don’t do short posts. I do long drawn out ones. Some would say that’s a no no in the blogging world, that it turns people off. I’m still learning how to blog to get followers. I hope one day to be successful.

But I use words. I can craft a put down that makes your momma cry, and say words to encourage and make people feel good. I can paint a beautiful picture of myself and what I am learning and growing in and I can make everything seem fine and wonderful. I can put together words of inspiration about weightloss to make people actually believe I’m in it and not sitting at the computer eating donuts. I can speak in love and softness and also in anger and frustration. I can use words.

I believe it’s a gift. But I also believe it’s a curse. Sometimes words aren’t needed. Sometimes they do nothing but keep me stagnant. What good are words of inspiration if I’m not letting them change me? What good is talking without action. I can apologize in the most eloquent of ways but what does it matter if I’m not really sorry, if I don’t change what it was that caused the offense in the first place. I can promise to be better, and move people to tears, but what does that matter?

I am thankful for my gift of writing and expressing myself. I’m happy that people find it encouraging and helpful. I’m proud of the work I’ve put out.

But the true beauty is in action, that’s when things happen. That is when progress is made. Words paint a pretty picture, but without action that picture will just sit in the closet and collect dust.

I don’t like being dusty.



Written by No More Tomorrows

November 9, 2011 at 11:37 am

Posted in Lessons, Writing

One Response

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  1. i LOVED this post…you write beautifully


    November 14, 2011 at 3:48 am

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