Souls in transparency, Velvet tongues that aim to please
It’s deliriously easy to state and defend a position when conversing with 1) someone your age, who 2) is a native speaker of your own tongue. Vocabulary grants us the gift of bullshit: the more words you have in your arsenal, the better your shot. Going up against one’s equal among such qualifications is simple enough. Even aiming for high holier-than-thou heads is doable: pull out all your velvet-tongued guns, and you can’t miss. Doesn’t mean you’ll win the game, but at least you’ll have made an acceptable effort.
It’s when you’re forced to strip an idea to its most basic form, however, that the truth is revealed. Eliminate the gilt and glittering shite, and all you’re left with is a single, solitary particle of thought. You honestly can’t know what you know until you reveal its core. Attempt to explain the intangible to innocents and internationals, and degree of success will prove measure of your own mind. Do you really think what you say, believe what you do - until you can convey it to them?
First-graders and foreigners, sounding boards of our conscience.
