It was evening in the Dictionary Café, a place where words hung out after a hard day of being overused. The menu had items like Grammar Rolls, Punctuation Pie, and the chef’s special: Word Salad.
At table 23, two regular customers sat complaining.
Actually: (adjusting his glasses) “Actually… I’m exhausted. I was used 47 times today by one person alone. In a five-minute conversation!”
You Know: (slurping tea loudly) “You know… same here. Some guy used me six times in one sentence. SIX. And he wasn’t even saying anything important! Just describing how his cat sneezed.”
Actually: “At least you’re harmless. People use me to sound clever, but half the time, I just make them sound annoying. Like—‘Actually, that’s not how Wi-Fi works.’ As if I’m some unpaid science teacher!”
You Know: “You know… you’re kind of right. But listen, without us, humans would have to face silence. And silence terrifies them. I’m basically their safety blanket with two words stitched on.”
Just then, Like crashed into their table, spilling a plate of Grammar Rolls.
Like: “Like, oh my God, you guys are, like, totally complaining again?”
Actually: “You again! You’re the reason teenagers sound like their sentences are running on batteries.”
Like: (offended) “Excuse me? I add flavor. Without me, conversations would taste like plain rice. With me, it’s biryani, baby!”
You Know: “You know… biryani doesn’t need you. It needs raita. You’re more like the coriander people keep picking out.”
Before Like could respond, Literally stomped in.
Literally: “Can everyone stop misusing me? People keep saying things like ‘I literally died laughing.’ If they literally died, they wouldn’t be here to finish the sentence!”
Actually: “Welcome to the club. None of us are used correctly.”
You Know: “You know… maybe that’s the point. We’re not here for meaning. We’re here for comfort. We’re the French fries of language—completely unnecessary, but everyone still wants us.”
The words fell silent. Even Like stopped chewing.
Finally, Actually sighed.
“Actually, you’re right. Humans don’t use us for logic. They use us for rhythm. We’re just… conversation drumbeats.”
You Know: “You know… we’re like background music. Nobody listens carefully, but without us, it feels empty.”
They all nodded in agreement.
From the corner, the grumpy old word Henceforth muttered into his soup:
“No one uses me anymore, lazy ones.”
The café roared with laughter.
The Uselessly Useful Moral
“Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the truth. Actually and You Know exist to remind us that human beings cannot survive on oxygen alone. They need filler words—like linguistic french fries. Nobody needs them, but everyone still orders extra.
Without them, conversations would collapse like Wi-Fi during a power cut. Imagine this:
- Instead of saying, ‘Actually, I think that’s wrong,’ you’d have to say, ‘You are wrong.’ BOOM. Instant fight. Divorce papers by dinner.
- Instead of saying, ‘You know, it’s complicated,’ you’d have to sit in silence and let people think. And nobody likes thinking. Thinking is dangerous.
Filler words soften the impact.
They are also tools of survival:
- Students use them to stretch a one-minute answer into a five-minute viva.
- Politicians use them to talk for hours without saying anything.
- Husbands use them to escape tricky questions like, ‘Do I look fat in this?’ (‘You know… actually… um… the lighting is…’)
So yes, Actually and You Know may be pointless, but they save humanity from awkward silences, dangerous honesty, and way too much clarity.
Because deep down, humans don’t want truth. They want noise.
And that, you know… is actually the moral.”
Talesmith: where even your verbal junk food gets a storyline.
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