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I am surrounded by signifiers but do I really see?

How is information disseminated and communicated? The power of the image often shocks me. I subconsciously emulate familiarity whether it is grasping for (what I thought was) my favourite colour but is really a product of clever marketing or copying the mannerisms from my favourite television character and altering my behaviour. Why can’t I be accepted for what I am and not what I should be (according to somebody else?) Then again, I usually have to remind myself that the key to easing my discontent is in seeking my own acceptance of self and no one else’s.

Am I more than a ghost in a machine?

Can I not distinguish truth from illusion?

Many of us have eyes and yet we do not see. If we have ears, do we hear music or is it merely noise?

Perhaps it is less about what one ‘says’ per se and more about the nature of the medium used to express it.

Language is a very powerful tool for communication. We are each versed in a variety of languages, often switching back and forth amongst many on a daily basis to communicate various kind of information. Text, image, light, sound, touch, etc, each hold their own unique language set that you and I may or may not speak. For every purpose, there is a different language set. Have you ever noticed the way you transform and adapt your language when speaking to your parents versus clients, colleagues or lovers? How do we engage with other people, places and ideas through language?

We seek the company of others.  Yet is it mainly for enjoyment or for validation? If we are constantly speaking, are we really communicating? Or are we merely seeking company so that we may feel validated by the reflection of ourselves through another? Are we gathering information to share or merely waiting in desperation to offer our opinions when no one was asking for them? Where is the silence? To remain open means quiet presence – a kind of tuning fork capable of delving into the subtleties that lurk beneath the surface.

Maybe you are not stupid or a bad listener but that I am bad talker or maybe we’re not speaking the same language despite the supposed ‘english’ label. Or perhaps something in you is part of me but I can’t admit it.

We are all lost and We are all found, as long as we are here together.

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