Weapons In The Form Of Words

This post is inspired by lyrics from ‘This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race’ by Fall Out Boy:

” I am an arms dealer
Fitting you with weapons in the form of words
And I don’t really care which side wins
As long as the room keeps singing
That’s just the business I’m in, yeah

This ain’t a scene, it’s a god damned arms race…
I’m not a shoulder to cry on
But I digress “

A couple of days ago, I listened to these words as I sped down the 401 en route to my in-laws*

(*As suggested by my father, they are more appropriately called ‘out-laws’, and shall hence forth be referred to as such.)

It occurred to me just how true those words are. When I think back to all of the terrible confrontations between Comic’s family and myself, they all came about by the utterance of some nasty words (often, though not always, behind my back) and what are nasty words, but weapons? Words can describe the joys and sorrows of our lives, limited only by the imagination of their speaker. They can evoke such feeling and passion, whether that be in the form of love or of hatred and all that exists between. I have suffered countless hours of anguish over words from my out-laws, mostly because as they are so important to Comic, I wanted more than anything to get along with them and to fit in. My fate however, was never in my hands. It had never mattered what I said or did, I wasn’t good enough before I even came into Comic’s life, because no one is good enough for him in their eyes.

Fortunately, over time, I have started to get over their words, and I’ve finally developed a thicker skin, a coat of armor, if you will, to deflect these continual utterances of malcontent. I am trying to turn over a new leaf in my life, and to no longer be drawn into their dramatics, which I know in the end will be better for Comic, Intrepid and myself. And so, in that spirit, I will not carry out a bitter diatribe about my visit as I had intended, but will take a step in the right direction and use my words for joy instead of pain.

At least I can say that Comic had a great time seeing his family, and that we are all now back at home. Intrepid sleeps peacefully in his crib. Comic plays archaic arcade games on his computer. And I am off to bed to drift into peaceful slumbers, listening to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on my iPod, and to dream of things left to my imagination.