I was taught to use million dollar words,
To put my hands upon a dictionary and always abide by it as though it were my bible,
I would join my hands together in prayer, praising a thesaurus as though it was my god and read books to pour knowledge into my mind as though my mind were poor.
I was taught to write, re write, re-try and try perpetually
So I can achieve fitting the million dollar words you shove down my throat
And forced me to chew on.
What I choked on was the idea that I had to use words that were pretty, sounded stunning and seemed like they belonged in a millionaire’s pocket.
Had I known then that a big word, may not always mean a big value.
Had I known then that beautiful words may not always equal beautiful writing,
Had I known then that it is not the surface of the word that means the most but what lies behind it.
maybe I would’ve also known that what lies on the surface of humans, means nothing as well.
Today instead of studying a dictionary, I am taught to study myself religiously,
Standing in front of a mirror, playing a game of who cracks first.
We’ve turned these dictionaries into a game of scrabble, picking million dollar words like “augmentation” and “perfection” that turn our society into a real life board game of “operation”, yet another million dollar word next to botox and implants, seduction and reductions. It’s ironic how million dollar words deplete our values. You see, the value of a million dollar word comes with a price tag.
We find our defaults as we search for those million dollar words, reading Vogue or Cosmopolitan which suck us in like quicksand.
Now I am hypnotized to believe that I am composed of fingernails and pretty hair, and the only words that fill my dictionary now are words like L’oreal, revlon, and MAC. I conceal my feelings like I conceal a pimple. Today, I look back and remember when being two faced was a bad thing but now, I buy into buying products from a makeup brand called too faced, but the truth is, I’ve always had two faces; the million dollar one smiling back at you and the one fighting within to raise its voice and rip itself from the quicksand.
I built a layer of dignity like a house of cards trying to block away expectations from today’s generation, but the big bad wolf huffs and puffs and blows it down when I don’t fit into size 0 jeans.
That thin layer of dignity crumbles, revealing a million scars because I used to join my hand together in prayer, praising Victoria Secret angels for being what I thought I could never be, but can only wish upon a shooting star that one day, some day, somewhere over the rainbow
My tummy will be smaller,
My nails will be longer,
My legs would be stronger,
My butt will be bigger and hopefully, just hopefully, I would be able to become society’s million dollar word. But I’m not in Kansas anymore and I’m no longer searching for Oz. I’m not naive like the first little piggy who had his house blown down.
I choose to invest in what is important to me, it may not be your million dollar word, but I’m making my deposit into the bank of integrity and you just keep playing that game of scrabble and operation, while I’ll be over here, getting rich off my own written dictionary that I’ve filled with words like “authenticity” and “determination”. After all, words like those are priceless.