Once again, I find myself absorbed in private musings about the power of words. These little symbols that we use to express ourselves to others that hold so much power. As much as they are the path to knowledge, they can also provide a mainline to confusion. This is not so much a new idea - volumes have been written on the subject. Words and words and more words and still nothing is not said. I myself have learned to become a master at language, especially in conversation. Skillfully avoiding revelation, disarming nervousness through humour, I navigate social situations without ever really saying anything of myself at all - except to demonstrate my love of language. At other times, my work is to enhance clarity. To explain the concepts behind the words to those that do not understand its highbrow presentation. At this too I am a master, and truly love the game. Language is my gift, yet when I forsee the way that I am meant to use it, I am afraid. Instead of activly working, I tell myself that the mere though is simply an illusion of grandeur, indicative of my tender grasp on sanity.