26 and Millions of Possibilities
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
You must be singing it in your head right now.
These weird eclectic 26 individuals, who don’t mean a thing, yet transcend time and space uniting beings, forging relationships, raising voices.
I think we take this for granted, as if words mean nothing to us. Yet we question why some can hurt us.
Why some can be one big ass samurai piercing, slicing hearts, emotions, and you, and me.
A dagger penetrating through even the most thick-skinned grim reaper out there, crumbling into thin fragments of shattered glass.
Why some can be frigid cold, an ice queen in the middle of scorching Sahara desert. Unmelted, skating its way on a tightrope of sand. Grinding every grain with its unforgiving sharp blade.
Why some can send people into a rampage, like wild horses that shouldn’t have been leashed in the first place, breaking families apart by an ignorant monolithic crooked barbed wire sentencing the young into dark isolation, and bloodbath wars of the past and of the future.
Maybe we are just that stupid.
Never understanding the power of these 26, turning them into millions of behemoth evil monsters who consume all innocence, purity, and peace. Sucking the faith of humanity like leeches, then spitting it back out as wrath of the Gods.
Perhaps one could have learned from history that benign words spread like cancer, a drop of ink permeating crystal clear water without answer. But I guess not…
Some keep sharpening their tongue spewing toxic hex, blabbering A to Z, ejaculating disgusting phrases.
But 26 can do so much more good than harm. 26 brings change.
From the steps of the capitol proclaiming equality and justice “I have a dream”, to the spotlight of a sixteen-year-old girl reclaiming her right to have a future on this earth, “We showed that we are united and that we, young people and old, are unstoppable.”
From the silently powerful words from poetry queen that “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away,” to the girl with her bright yellow coat and bold red headband, a new generation of poet giving hope to a not broken, but simply unfinished nation, “That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb, if only we dare.”
From breaking the silence of sexual abuse in Hollywood’s biggest silver screen rats “Me Too”, to a courageous Pakistani girl in her red hijab fighting for young girls to receive equal education, writing out her life diary under the belly of the beast and who was shot in the head for daring to go to school, sparking an outcry of humanity questioning what good is left of this world.
Words can do good.
When 26 becomes millions of possibilities, we ought to ask ourselves which part of history we would like to print our mark on.
Because we have the power to speak, and the freedom to raise voices, and to advocate for words we put out to the world.
To steer the course of the past and the future still yet to come. To make or break living things, to grow or kill or nurture or end relationships. To spread kindness, or to infect self-hatred. To cure the broken heart, or to sentence one further into misery.
So let’s think before we speak. Speak before we scream. And scream when needed, before we lose our voices.
© Joshua Theodorus Kurnia 2021
