You know the movie. Mean Girls – iconic, and painfully relatable. It got me thinking about communication: the constant stream of chatter, media, and noise we call connection. How are we supposed to function as decent humans when we’re half-lying to our friends and half-lying to ourselves?

There’s so much information out there that it feels like there’s none at all. We live in an age where communication is just a word we tack onto our résumés before switching from one screen to another – to “talk” with someone who might be two doors down, or in the next room, or at work, where no actual words will be spoken.

Words. What weight do they carry?
Do the ones I say to myself matter more than the ones I say aloud? I can hear someone speak, but once they walk away, my understanding of what they really meant goes with them. Maybe inner dialogue is more honest than outward conversation – or maybe the only difference is volume.

Our thoughts can be louder than anything else. Like a pot of water left to boil, we either let it burn dry and explode, or we add something useful before it does.

Still, we can’t help but crave other people’s opinions – a self-inflicted sickness we all indulge. So how do we let it out without combusting? Do we write it all down (hi), overshare with some poor coworker because our transient friends have ghosted again, or bottle it up until we blow the whole metaphorical stove?

At least I’m writing instead of bottling. That counts for something.

Off to watch a movie. ; )
“Chat” soon…

– E