It can be argued that language is simply an externalization of thought; a method to simulate the storage of ideas beyond their makers, a method to attempt the transfer of conglomerations of history, emotion, and reasoning between vessels. Under such an argument, works of language exist simply as masses of organized matter, chaotically patterned. The information, or the meaning, of the language represented by these organizations, is only just that: represented. It is not until these organizations are observed and interpreted that their information exists; however, it would seem only for a moment, for although we perceive the language, this perceiving is simply a mechanical step in the recreation of the original idea, after which this language is no longer needed.
Words are not the building blocks of thought, they are the crude outlines of the structures we build of a material entirely different.
From this perspective, words only momentarily exist, in their full capacity, as entities to pass between the border of our physical and mental realities. This argument frames our mental and physical realities as separate spaces, two spaces that we very much appear to exist and be active participants within; however, this argument also suggests, as does empirical evidence, that there are conduits between these spaces: we can physically act on a idea or see something that changes what we think. These implied conduits exist as biological systems that translate information and action between our two realities. This argument extends this concept, saying that language, that is to say words, pass through an additional system before entering our mental reality.
Perceiving anything within our physical world, is a transfer of electrical impulses, physical forces, physical energy, through our brain. By the conservation of energy, we know that these impulses remain within our physical reality to be used again. Perceiving a word is no different, it is a function of the brain; however, by this argument, in the moment before a word arrives within our mental reality, the word only then truly becomes a word, influencing out mental-scape, but after serving such a purpose this true word would seem to disappear: an entity that no longer exists in either our physical or mental realities.
Where do these words go, our perception of them imbues them with a sort of energy, creating them, and our mental reality simply shapes itself from the form of the word, depleting the word of none of this energy. This process, as it is stated, doesn't explain the disappearance of the word, for what fades from existence when it is in possession of the same level of energy as at its creation? Perhaps there is another reality to which these discarded entities disappear to.