Not having much to say but saying it anyway seems to be my mode of choice. Mode of communication, mode of updating. I wonder if there’s a word for that sensation when you say one word too much and it loses its meaning. Like you just catch estrangement like a cold and it clings to you, throwing doubt onto things never before doubted. For a moment, if the word isn’t real then is any word real? The meaninglessness of specific language seeps through the cracks, even though the meaningfulness of general language is ever present and unfaltering. A love note written in one language is a mess to anybody not taught to understand, readable to those who have been taught, and meaningful really only to the person who was meant to read it. Language changes its shape and circumstantial purpose every second, but communication is more important than lots of things, and that doesn’t change. I suppose it’s a call for people to be adaptable, in that case, just as language is. Language exists in inherent and unspoken ways, such as a movement or expression, as well as in words and gestures, which are all just symbols. Symbols mean nothing if you don’t understand their implications, but it seems strange that anybody could speak a language their entire life, type the word mode three times within 25 seconds and doubt their ability to interpret its meaning.