At the end of the day, there are some things you can't help but talk about. Some things we just don`t want to hear, & some things we say cause we can`t be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they`re what you do. Some things you say cause there`s no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. & not too often, but every now & then, some things simply speak for themselves.

I don't know why we talk but I do know that women invented talking. A guy can let a woman know what he wants with just a wink and a smile but a woman needs words to tell him not tonight because she has a headache.

Also, most relationship problems arise because the average man uses 3000 words in one day. A woman uses 36000 words in one day. When a man comes home, he's done talking. But a woman still has 33000 words to go.

Also think about how much time a woman spends on the phone to realize that a woman must have invented talking. I mean, a guy wouldn't invent talking because that would mean that a woman could interrupt the game.

Anyway, as I have proven, men are short and concise and don't go on and on about a subject. We say what we are thinking and we're done. Usually one or two sentences. Are you still reading this?

Finally, talking allows for verbal intercourse. I think this is the number one reason for talking.

The fact of the matter is that we just happened to evolve very complex vocal abilities. Humans, in general, are a pretty crap species. We're slow and weak, but highly intelligent. Our survival is based entirely on our intelligence and our social abilities. Those early humans who evolved complex vocal abilities were able to survive far better then those without them. Eventually we started to create very simple languages, and our vocal abilities become extremely important.

So yes, simply, we talk because we happened to evolve complex vocal abilities which were extremely beneficial to our survival. This, along with our fantastic intelligence which gives us an ability to create language, meant that we were able to survive.

We tlak to let others know how we feel and if we never tlaked not much would get done.

why is a hard question to answer because we would have to find the source of power that makes it this way.

are we the true intelligence? or are our thoughts random? or is it intelligent design?

that's like... why do we think?

We talk because we need to! Verbal exchange is the best thing since Webster put out his dictionary, slammed in on the table and said; "Now Speak!" Or was that Charlton Heston as Michelangelo when he struck the knee of David in "The Agony & The Ecstasy?"

We talk to validate ourselves and others. We talk to elicit another's point of view. We talk because it's cathartic. We talk to teach, We talk to convey information and we talk because we can...and why not! Talking is the only way I know to gain insight and understanding about one another. Talking is the bomb!

Talking gave us an evolutionary advantage over other animals.

We are able to discuss complex ideas which allows us to better manipulate the world around us.

Alicia Keys says some deep shiiiit. (x

i'm a prisoner of words unsaid. these lonely feelings locked away in my head. i trap myself further everytime i stay quiet; i should start to speak, but i stop and stay quiet. now i've made my own hard bed inside this prison of words unsaid.

p.o.w-- that's what i am. not a prisoner of war, but a prisoner of words. mostly i say what you want to hear. could you take it if i came clear ? or would you rather see me stoned on a drug of complacency and compromise ?

m.i.a--i guess that's what i am, scraping this cold, hard, earth for a piece of myself. it'd be easier if you just put me in jail. you know, if you locked me in jail at least i'd have someone to blame. but these bars of steam are of my own making.they surround my mind and have me shaking.my hands are cuffed behind my back--i'm a prisoner of the worst kind in fact. i'm a prisoner of compromise, a prisoner of compassion. a prisoner of kindness, a prisoner of expectations. a prisoner my youth running too fast to be old; i've forgotten what i was told...an eyesight to behold.

a prisoner of age dieing to be young. to my head, is a hand with a gun; and it's cold and it's hard because there's no where to run. you caged yourself by holding your tongue. i'm a prisoner of words unsaid. just lonely feelings locked away in my head. it's like solitary confinement: everytime i stay quiet, i start to speak but i stop...i stay silent.

and now i've made my own hard bed inside this prison of words unsaid.