When you find something written by somebody else that exactly mirrors what you think, it's always a bit strange.

Words are useless, but there's this strange drive to share...

Of course, now I get why religious/political/ideological folks of whatever stripe are so annoying and persistent.

Words Are Meaningless and Forgettable - Pop Occulture:

"More and more all the time, I know that the Truth (or God or whatever you want to call it) has no regard for words, language, concepts or descriptions.

If anything, those things are the traps laid out for the unsuspecting and ignorant beasts wandering blindly throughout the ancient green forests of the Truth. You can spend thousands of hours (and I have) splitting hairs over terminology and inflection and viewpoint and all the rest. And where do you end up? Still firmly caught in the thicket of words, still twisted and turned around and confused.

So my problem is, I know that. I feel that. At times the futility of description overwhelms me, makes me literally sick. And here I am, still compelled to write. Still compelled to use language to explore ineffable Truths. But part of me worries that trying to wrap in words that which can’t be expressed is a violation of it.

...But sometimes all I feel like I’m doing is hacking madly at my own chains while they grow tighter and stronger. And at the same time, I’m decorating my cell, trying to make my imprisonment more comfortable, more inviting to visitors. It’s a strange paradox: I feel like I should be quiet and still and respectful of that which can’t be spoken, but I can’t seem to shut the hell up. And I have this weird urge to get everybody else talking too - and shouting and singing and laughing. Cause what else do we have, really? Maybe the ineffable really can’t be expressed. I’m willing to accept that. But maybe it can’t not be expressed either. Maybe it’s so filled with joy and noise and music and meaning and peals of bubbling, erotic, creative laughter that it simply can’t be restrained or stopped or diminished one single iota.

Maybe it’s not such a paradox after all. It’s simply life. It flows around and past our fears and guilt and misconceptions - however cleverly we’ve managed to construct them for ourselves."