But that's an easy way out too. Language feeds off of ambiguity, interpretation, discrepancy been intention and action. Like nothing more than The Trial's unknown, and perceiveably pointless bureaucracy, an unimaginably complex thing which feeds on itself, which continues through inertia, through default, language consists of nothing but power and time, and in interpretation, we perpetuate this existence, because this what we do, because this is what we are, because this is what we do. Language defines humanity, not the reverse. Language contains us.
Language is our shame.
It will outlive us. Because we can't help it, but luckily, some of us love it. And perhaps Franz Kafka would have wanted it that way.