Curiousity

Words.

Words.

What are they, really?

Letters are strung together to form a meaning. Then they are classified. We stick a label on them, like "elementary," "SAT," and "expletive." How is it that the whole world came up with their completely different languages? They started making sounds, and noises. Were the languages themselves based on factors that influenced other aspects of their society? They came up with basic cultural distinctions based on climate, right? That's how they learned to build shelter, make clothes, and eat. Maybe the sound of the words were based on this, too. How is it that in Japan, they looked at this and said "hana," whereas the English said "flower"? Japanese words all have a similar structure. The sounds are all simple syllables that make up words. "Nagasaki." "Hiroshima." [APUSH on the mind] There are so many Chinese influences in Japanese culture, but not in the pronunciation of the words. So somehow, in ancient times, people from all over the islands of Japan started designating certain noises for meanings, and they all came out the same but so different from those of China? But then again, it shouldn't be too difficult. People make up languages all the time. A wizard and a muggle can have a conversation in which neither has any idea what the other is saying. But that is when one person makes it all up. How does an entire people learn and understand a way of speaking that is so different from that of another country? I'm always so fascinated by people who are bilingual because their parent speaks another language. When they were a kid, how did they distinguish between the differing languages? A girl in my SAT class today said she spoke fluent Spanish because her mother was from Spain. When this girl was a kid, how did she know not to mix Spanish words with English words? How do you keep track of so many meanings to words when little kids can barely communicate in one language? Seriously, even teenagers in America can't speak proper English. But maybe that's their way of making their own languages, too. My mother will say any day that her students (who are mostly black) speak in words of which she had absolutely no understanding. Maybe it is those sects that stem from other languages that create new languages. How does the mind make these differentiations between differing languages to people who are fluent? In what language do they think? Lately, I've noticed sometimes random Japanese words will slip into my thoughts. I will try to explain how it is "only this" and I will say "だけ" (dake: da ke) to express this fact, because the word だけsounds more like the meaning of "only" in my head than "only" does. "Only" is a mouthful to say, and how does the meaning reflect the sound of the word? Sounds affect our brains, like how certain patterns of music can affect us over and over again and we'd never realize it was always the same thing.

I love all this stuff. I love language. I love the study of people and how they evolved. I love how their minds work. I love music.

English. Japanese. Anthropology. Psychology. Music.

I need to go to college now and study everything. This is what goes on in my mind if I let it wander enough, but I always get stuck short because I don't know enough. If I start looking things up, I'll find I don't have the time because I have other things I need to do. As I've been writing this, I've been neglecting my physics homework. Just a little while ago, my mind was a train swiftly moving down the tracks, gaining momentum, stumbling here and there but continuing along, excitedly. I just picked up my physics and looked at it. Now the train has stopped and I am behind it, trying to push the enormous freight train with my non-existent strength. Maybe it budges an inch, but I keep getting tired, looking up, and seeing all the other trains zoom past me, completely at ease. They hit their bumps too, but they power over them and chug along. We are all these trains, and school is where we should be able to find where they can go along the tracks swiftly and powerfully. Maybe not high school, because there you are still trying out the different tracks. It is college where we can finally stop pushing these trains with our skinny little arms and start shoveling coal into the engines. Comb out the bumps. Smooth out the bumps. They should be there to push you along. Hit a hard spot and dig your way out. Sitting behind a rock wall with no idea how to get through it, armed with tons of dynamite and instructions in a language you do not understand, does nothing. I'm so sick of being that person, and for once I want to be the one who understands the language. I want to be the person who can run their train efficiently and learn and understand and not want to cry every time she thinks about going to her classes or doing her homework.

I want this so badly.