For me the words I use are a great concern when writing, as are the order and the moment I place them. English is a language I learned to like and use, but writing in english is a challenge, it demands from me four times the usual amount to write my thoughts. The good thing about it is that I read it over and over again four times more, so I have more time to think about what it is I'm trying to convey.
Maybe all that is the reason why "precision of language" caught my thoughts at the beginning.
Immediately he had been taken aside for a brief private lesson in language precision. He was not starving, it was pointed out. He was hungry."
Being unprecise then means lying, an 'uninttentioned lie', but still a lie.
So, in order to get what is needed one is impelled to act in a precise manner.
Sometimes (or all the time) it will include lying.
I don't really see much difference in the way I learned things are.
So first of all, I should warn you that everything you're reading here comes from what I believe and from the manner I've found to get what I need. But of course, you'll take only what you need from this text.
The other thought-provoking part was the one about feelings:
"Do you love me?
"...you used a very generalized word, so meaningless that it's become obsolete. (...) You could ask 'Do you enjoy me?' The answer is 'Yes."
It is indeed very funny how humanity raised this need of giving everything a correspondent sign, even what is not tangible.
And if you give it a deep thought, it becomes a bit confusing. All signs of love are not love itself and might not mean that the person who emitted them actually love. And though anyone is free to say "I love you", it doesn't mean everyone who say it really feel it. Therefore, people keep on saying "I love you" turning it into a very generalized word, so meaningless it'll soon become obsolete.
But what about the feeling attached to it? Is it possible to feel something you can't name? Or would you need to give it an unprecise name? Or maybe you would ignore it for such a long time, that it would stop being important.
The third thing I want to talk about here is the somewhat akward profession "the reciever of memories".
The book describes the characteristics of the reciever of memories as 'intelligence', 'integrity', 'courage', wisdom' and 'capacity to see beyond', being this last a one citizens wouldn't understand the meaning.
At this point I had a very specific catharsis recalling what is said about being an artist.
Now you don't really have to be intelligent, honest, brave or wise; you just have to make people believe you have the capacity to see beyond.
What I've tried though is to grow as an intelligent, honest and brave person to acquire wisdom and maybe be able to see beyond (language, at least).
And 'seeing beyond' itself is a rather ambiguous matter: if you are the only person who can see beyond something, you are more likely to be placed as someone with a kind of mental disturbance (unless you're an artist).
So I wonder who will be the next really capable of risking a comfortable sit in the audience to try something new just because it is coherent to their beliefs and to what they see to give back to society what they couldn't find, see or feel yet. Also, if this someone have consistent qualities they can pass on. And more than that, if this same person should or have the right to promote such change.
"They know nothing" (...)
"It's the way they live. It's the life life that was created for them. It's the same life that you would have, if you had not been chosen as my successor", as the reciever of memories.
Finally, I would like to say a word about sharing memories.
Well, guess that's kind of metalinguistic, because that is pretty much why I write: "The worst part of holding memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared."
I deeply apologise for any inconvinience you face in unprecise language I might have used.