“But if thought can corrupt language, language can corrupt thought.”
– George Orwell –
You were the first word I met and the first sentence I got to know; you’re every single thought I’ve pondered over and every dream I’ve woken up from. You’re my awkward small talk and my polite and perfectly pronounced ‘hello, how are you?’ You’re my adoration for alliteration and my secrets that are only willing to come out in my darkest, drunkest hour. You’re the bully that hauntingly oppresses the other languages I’ve ever come to know but simultaneously my first love in this world of writing.