Sticks & stones may break bones, but words can destroy you.

I stay so flippin' busy anymore that I can't believe there are people who have so much time on their hands that they have to dream up things to make the day interesting. People always tell you when you're growing up that all this gossiping, juvenile crap that goes on in junior high and high school ends there, that it's "not like this out in the real world". We're somehow led to believe that our diplomas double as magic wands that suddenly make everyone into adults and open our eyes to the fact that not one of us is any better than anyone else (gasp!) and VOILA! We all live in perfect harmony as soon as we flip that tassel to the other side of our heads. Nearly two decades later, I'm no longer shocked speechless to find that people "out here" are no different than they were back then. But every once in awhile, the shamelessness of it all does catch me by surprise.




I've watched a family be shredded in the last two days by the thoughtless, idle words that some bored and jobless idiot strung together to have something interesting to tell her equally pathetic cohorts over coffee and cigarettes. They remind me of vultures. They circle constantly, looking for signs of weakness in any breathing creature, zeroing in on the easiest targets; those who've got more than enough to deal with and can't fight off an attack. They begin to swoop in, taking pecks here and there, hoping to cause enough pain and exhaustion to bring the prey to its knees. Maybe they'll retreat for as long as it takes for their victim to regain a little hope of survival, maybe not. Disgusting, despicable, carcass-eating, busybodies. They spend so much time in the company of only each other, they grow immune to the stench they emit. Or, perhaps, it's the entire community that stinks, therefore, it's familiar and actually quite comfortable to thrive in the putridness of it all.





I think of ways I've contributed to the pain of others by runnin' my mouth and I'm sorry in more ways than I could ever express. Being the target of it more than a few times will break you right out of wanting to have any part in it. Thankfully, I've developed an intolerance for the maliciousness of it all. In reality, no one is actually dying on account of careless words, but it's bringing about death, nonetheless. Death of trust, death of relationship, death of a marriage, death of family, death of a business ruined by a tainted reputation...death of sanity, it would seem, for the one most affected. We can all sit back and say, "Oh, no one listens to all that stuff anyway.", but the truth is, people ARE listening. They're taking it in, adding in their own twisted perceptions of the situation, and spitting it back out to the next willing listener. If only I hadda dollar for every time I encountered the, "OH! Have I got somethin' to tell YOU...you're never gonna believe this..." intro to conversation. It's the drug of choice in Small Town, America. I got countless other addictions to occupy my mind and time.





Gossip is as much empowered by the listener as by the one speaking it, but it finds its highest glory in the response of the one it's attempting to destroy. It's a fight to get it shut down in a place where nothing makes anyone happier than the misery of another. What I want to do is climb up on a table in the middle of them all, interrupt their gabfest, and really give em somethin' to talk about, let 'em all know what havoc they're wreaking on these poor people. I'm gettin' a good lesson on the destruction that words can bring about. I hope I don't forget it.

chatter boxes die of an empty heart

fools openly spread slander

the blabber of the wicked is worthless

a foul mouth is a stagnant swamp

the words of the wicked pollute the air