Words are powerful. They cut through air sharper than any knife, making invisible impact while leaving a trace, a pathway to where they originated. They can destroy and push one down. They bully and threaten. They are also the cause of assumptions. Writing has always been an intimate form of expression. Some people hide behind their words, creating an alternate persona. Others embellish, building themselves up. Many more find the truth, strength, relief, and hope they need. Allowing one to read these written words specifically strung together in a precise way can be intimate. Giving one access to your innermost thoughts is intimate. Trusting one not to judge or harass you based on these choice words is intimate. Words build relationships, bind vows, and create promises. A single action can destroy the hope that words generate. As powerful as words are, they are also more fragile than glass. I created my last blog, an assignment for a journalism class I took back in college, with this intimacy in mind. Sharing my words, putting them out there for an audience, was scary…scary intimate. Unfortunately, these days, people’s minds live in the gutter and I have been forced to move on from tiffanyjoy69.blogspot.com & here now lies my future love with words.