Purple prose

This prose must touch the canvas, the brush, the knife, the medium, the easel—the elements, before this soufflé collapses under its own pretension.

“Every noun lives to be a verb”—static things yearn to become actions. This reflects how language—and, by extension, thought—transforms identities, objects, and states of being into movement, impact, or experience.

In language, identities aren’t meant just to sit still. They want to work. A “dream” intends to be dreamed. A “plan” wants to be planned. A “wine” aspires to be sipped. It doesn’t settle for being bottled—it longs to unfold on a tongue, swirl, soften, and speak in note. This transformation from noun to verb reflects a kind of existential fulfillment. To name something is one thing; to enact it is another. In other words, we don’t just possess love; we love. A whisper doesn’t exist without whispering.

Language, like people, craves movement. I crave movement. It wants to become. And in doing so, it mirrors our need to turn potential into action, identity into expression.