A Big-Small Question

IT just popped into my mind while I was doing laundry one day. How the two are related I will never know. But then again, maybe everything is inter-linked, spun together into a flax-golden web of life.
I may use these words but what do they mean really? Because language, yes the language I am speaking, the language you are reading, is just a way of referring to something using certain sounds everyone is taught to represent it. Like with an apple. A nice, big red apple. You obviously get what I'm talking about. Although it gets troublesome when you apply this bite-sized philosophy into this; "I" then becomes an unfathomable concept.
One question that then occurs to me is: does language blind us to the true nature of things? If we hear "apple" and think of an apple, does that stop us from seeing it beyond being what we see it as?
Does language blind or does it illuminate?

Back to my main point.

I opened my mouth and I asked a question steadily and slowly.
"Do we exist?"
Three little words. Lots of "three little words" have changed the world. They don't necessarily have to come in threes obviously but they are really just words. At the end of the day everything can be spoken of in a language that we know. It can just never be truly heard.
Think of all the words you've ever heard crowding in a storm over your head and in it, in one big fat mess that starts encompassing you so it blocks out all else and all you can think is about this strange phenomenon of white head-noise. And then reach in a little finger, a little pinky maybe, and pluck out the words you've heard. Any ones.
I love you.
I have a dream.
I am.

Then here I ask, what is I? For that is really what I meant by, "Do we exist?" Do we float around somewhere in non-existence or do we really affect this world? What if all the buildings and bridges and people and homes were all just nothing? Or maybe what we think is our universe is really just an atom on something else, something huge, of which we can just barely perceive, maybe in moments of meditation or times of trouble. Sometimes.

And maybe we can feel something in the very words we speak, if we begin to listen to them as they pass our young lips.

And that is why we speak.