I’ve written and imbued my words in different forms of conflict, from class struggles to dialectic thinking. But, I’m not going to bite off more than I chew. It’s ironic that I can understand these, but not the origin– people. It’s become a running theme in my essays that people are confusing, with my eyes only digging this trench further. At this rate, I should organize myself than to let this clutter blind me. I may have my peace, but I have ‘War’ in my surname– so let this conflict be of men.
Before that, I have to define the concept of communication– the same one that this conflict resides under. It’s not like I haven’t touched it before, but they’re scattered across the 91,990 words that I wrote. It’s time to fashion something out of all of these shards, so let me begin.
As I previously established in Bonds, words are an expression of a person’s will– the form of their intent. When we speak to each other, our words meet– our wills moving forward on the same ground. Even if our thoughts are embroiled in strife, under this shared understanding– it becomes a conversation. If this synergy doesn’t exist, then it tends to lose meaning entirely. The overarching goal of communication is to understand, but how can a person understand if they can’t comprehend even that?
Ironically, miscommunication tropes have become popular in books, shows, movies, comics– any form of media. Why? Because it paints one of the most realistic experiences in our lives, one that either makes or breaks us. We may all speak words and sentences, but not all of us can speak their intent openly. I disliked these tropes as I thought more of people, yet I must concede– their picture is merely exaggerated.
I wrote that the goal of communication is to understand, so let me add a line to this– to understand the author’s intent. I am a stoic, a man who demands control of my entire being– but I can’t control others. Once I speak, my words are left for interpretation. When you read my words, you hear one voice. If I were to read them, you’d be hearing one that I haven’t heard myself.
Ofcourse, it’s not like I haven’t done anything about this. When I speak, my tone inflections and voice make myself clear. When I write, I choose my words carefully and make myself clear– be it in lines or paragraphs. When it comes to polished works like this, it suffices– but not for actual people. Silence is preferable than overextending your will, especially when it comes to this two-dimensional plane. Save those words for your tongue to speak, lest you condemn yourself to an ignorable fate.
Another misconception that I see in myself when it comes to communication is that it has to be meaningful, in terms of words. I don’t like small talk and wrote that I recognized it’s worth– a truth so hazy I almost called it a lie. It is only now that I can make that claim and have words to spare. Small talk is a casual mixing of intent, one whose significance has an entire spectrum– dependent on your closeness with your partner. But, it still fits the standards of communication, even if I dislike it or find it tedious.
Now, I’d write that communication is an equal exchange– but we all know that it’s not true. Communication is balanced, with that balance being social dynamics– the hierarchy between you and your partner. For simplicity’s sake, I write of exchanges between peers– any other hierarchy is a conversation. I may be willing to share my understanding, but I won’t compromise myself by writing a key. A trap works with the element of surprise. Without that element, it’ll easily be disarmed– so why would I volunteer?
Some of us forget that communication isn’t bad or good. It is a reflection of our will that decides its nature, a question and an interrogation, a word of advice and an act of condemnation, reassurance and pressure. Only a fool would leave these coins up to chance when we can decide the faces they fall on. Will requires a form that must be fashioned, lest you suffer for your carelessness.
People of authority are nothing new, so I have my own ways of dealing with them– be it good or bad. In the future I see for myself, their authority will become weights that’ll bear heavy on my crown. I haven’t met them yet, but I know. I also know that I can’t discern good or bad so soon, so why would I give myself away? Prudence is a virtue, one that I’ll keep. Water flows and winds shift as I adapt to these nuances, but I can’t have others reading that. That’d be rigging the scales against me. So if I can’t write it, I’ll speak it.
While people may be equal in standing, their conduct and words quickly distinguish them. Some of us prefer silence while others soothe themselves with their own voices, their energy setting the conversation. It’s a bit annoying, but that’s humanity for you. But, the moment that person begins to dominate a conversation with their interpretation, it starts to slip. I can’t see everything, but I know that this conversation is going to change. so instead of trying to catch all of these branches, I’ll write two of the timelines I can see. the first being a confrontation and the second being a more intimate understanding.
As human beings, we are our own sovereigns. Forget this being a thought, it is a part of our will– a surprisingly resilient one. For a conversation to unfold in such a lopsided method, do you think that your partner would let themselves be suppressed like that? When cornered, even a rabbit bites– but we’re not rabbits. We would take chunks just for being slighted, this slight being a matter of our interpretation. For why else do we see ourselves as hailing from nations and states that carved their borders out in blood? Those boundaries are full of barbs, so you’re bound to lose some flesh– even if they didn’t notice your transgression.
On the other hand, if your partner agrees with you to such a deep extent– their barbs are meaningless. Hurting you would be tantamount to hurting themselves, so instead they become intertwined. There may be minute differences, but we see hours– so almost nobody would notice it until the hand moves far enough. By then, we’ll see if this synthesis remains the same after withstanding time. A test that shows a dynamic duo or a person consumed entirely.
Can a conversation truly hold once a person loses the individual will that represented themselves? I’d write that they’re a corpse, but that tarnishes the will of the deceased– so I’ll just call them a shell. One person, two bodies. Sure, you may speak to yourself– but that’s not a conversation. I may introspect and invoke temporal versions of myself, but it’s the same will– just different versions of myself.
I mentioned earlier that our thoughts aren’t fully aligned, so now let me elaborate on this further. A person’s will consists of fragments, thoughts that compete against each other to be acted on. Its another form of conflict that we all know well, one that we feel when it’s time to make a choice. A person’s will is the fragment that prevailed over the rest– one that sets them into motion. After all, a loyalist can have treasonous thoughts– even if they’ll never act on it.
When it comes to communication, most of us wear some type of armor– it’s protection determined by our comfort. Quite frankly, I’m comfortable when I’m impervious to most forms of damage. I like to stand tall, even if I take a few shots to the chest– even if I lose my comfort. If I can feel pain, then I can feel the rest of my emotions– reassuring me of my humanity. Now some of us think that strength is your ability to ignore pain– to have an armor with no chinks.
But, the problem with that is– what will you do when you do feel pain? A sense that you’ve suppressed this entire time, a feeling that you’ve never felt. While there are few constants in our life, I can assure you that pain is one of those certainties. Fortitude isn’t derived from your capacity to ignore pain, but your ability to accept it and maintain rationality. Ofcourse, it won’t be perfect– but that’s a part of being human. We have the capacity of being rational and emotional, but you’ll find us in-between these two extremes.