Words don’t matter, that’s why we read them.
Turning the pages, dirtying our hands with dried ink of someone else’s words. Let me read your hands, so I can tell you of your past and maybe your future. ‘Once upon a time’. That’s how every fairytale starts. Once, we had, upon a time, something to say. Upon a time, once the words mattered.
But now, we have signs and symbols as replaced letters; as “lol” to “😆” (or is that “ 👁️ ❤️ to 😆?). If the letters don’t matter, where will the words go?
– Tag you’re it!
You are the ‘It’ pronoun. Undetermined. You say all the right things, as if answers are copied on your hands. Like a student cheating on a test, #YouTrytoCheatatLife. You have all the answers, with a Hashtag sealing your victory.
You win! You. Win. Your prize? An ampersand – fully spelled out.
I wanted to try it (hash), but you convincingly remind me of the last time I tried it (tag), painting the image of me stricken with the fear and paranoia. So instead, we drink hibiscus tea. Sitting side-by-side, our polite slurps the only sound, as we redefine a night out.
I wish I had chosen hash.
The words don’t matter. To Shakespeare they did. ‘Out damn spot, out’; ‘To be, or not to be’. ‘A rose by any other name…’
Shakespeare never used hash …or tags.