If you say a word enough, you can abstract it from its meaning, to being just a sound, bestowing it with a solely onomatopoeic meaning. Say it with joy, and it becomes the joy.
Learning a language is weird just because you stuff your brain with sounds which have no connection with your mind, but which have a link into the very foundations of another cultures lingual landscape. But just looking at the word it is merely a sound. You can say the most tragic things, again and again, concentrating on the pronunciation, executing the grammar of a cruel put down with perfection. And all for the purposes of learning a language.
I never have understood suicide, so perhaps it must be one of the perspective things. I know some people will never understand stuff that I think either. Watching a play that toyed with suicide, I sometimes felt like it was speaking another language. Ritualistic existentialistic self-sacrifice.