Speaking bullets: 

I don’t believe that the most powerful weapon in existence is something man made. It cannot be purchased or built, it doesn’t shoot bullets at intense speeds nor can it be held in your hands. 

It is my understanding that the world’s most dangerous weapon is spoken from our own mouths. Of course, the old “sticks and stones may break my bones” is nothing but cliche unless you’ve been the victim of someone speaking bullets at you, and what I mean by that is, when was the last time something someone said to you really stuck to you, made your heart sink, cower, or even cry? 

You know what feeling I’m reffering to. It’s that lump in your throat and pressure in your lungs and the surge of a heartbeat you get when you hear something. Maybe it’s the flutter of hearing someone’s name whom you care for, or even the shame you feel when someone beats you down verbally. That’s the power of words, my friends. 

We have a choice to be remembered in a way that really affect other people. Positive or negative, crude or complimentary. Harm or heal. I understand that this isn’t something that most people pause throughout their day to think about. Like, “wow I was actually pretty mean to my brother this morning, I should watch what I say next time.” Or “that compliment from my friend really made my day today.” And all too often we essentially spit venom from our mouths, again, speaking bullets without first considering the exit wound. 

Where do our words go? Some spoken are never forgotten, depending on the way it was meant or interpreted. I for one am constantly fascinated by the art of human language and the pain or joy it brings to others. Admittedly, I’m going to say that I’m a hypocrite in this sense. I probably won’t remember the insults that I’ve heard over the years, or even the kind words of a stranger. But I will end by saying this. I will always remember the way people made me feel. The words you say, the way you form yourself and articulate yourself to others speak volumes about who you are. 

Perhaps the art of language is slowly losing its luster and people will continue to not think about what they say before they say it. Maybe words aren’t actually interesting or beautiful at all and I’m just rambling about nothing. There is, however, one truth to what I’m saying. Words are a paradox. They are temporary, yet permanent. Complicated, but simple, meaningful and meaningless all in one. But actions are permanent and words, no matter what they mean to us, should be carefully selected and spoken. You never know who is listening. 

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Author:

Launched in 2014 as a community for creative thinkers, bloggers, and those with eyes and an open heart, this CaraFranMin is a quickly growing collective of go-getters from around Pittsburgh. My hopes for this account is to promote a more honest, and raw type of writing among young people. To speak up about the things that aren't always easy to talk about, and to get real with others. I've always loved telling, sharing, and writing stories. The way I see it--This is what life is all about- human connection and how our passion molds us into the people we become. I am fascinated by what makes people tick, those who go the distance and follow their true calling. Any chance to get to know others better, make them feel inspired or turn their day around, I'm in. Some noteworthy things about me include: There is a constant stream of song lyrics going through my mind at all times. I'm an avid people watcher. An overly friendly introvert. Die hard Coffee lover and expert "I KNOW THIS SONG" -er. And I am obsessed with my Golden Retriever, Theodore. Catch me at Carnegie Coffee Company on the weekends, or somewhere floating on my paddleboard around the Burgh.

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