Right, one last post before I head to bed. I was reading through some journal entries of mine from a few years ago and they are wonderfully rich. Part of the problem was I used to use writing as a type of therapy, so a lot of my journal writing was done when I was depressed and looking back on them all now is downright entertaining. I particularly like this excerpt:
Clarity of thought hinges on precision in diction. To think of the confusion that would disappear if only people would learn and utilize the full potential of language. But most people don't care to know that bears don't hibernate or that butterflies do not come out of cocoons. [Best part:] Yet I refuse to dwell on "most people" for the actions, the irrationalities, and the ignorancies of the mass public frustrate me to no end.
Boy-howdy was I pompous (and yes, I just used "boy-howdy," get over it). Part of the problem was the academic program I was in at the time encouraged elitist attitudes. Most of it was just me. Yikes.
I will say that I still think we don't exploit language nearly enough. I have this annoying habit of wanting to make sure I express myself clearly; using the exact words to embody precisely what I want to convey. I can't stand it when I feel like I haven't expressed exactly what I wanted to how I wanted to. This is why it takes me so long to write things (or say things for that matter). I want to make sure I have the right words, the right phrases. Eventually, however, after grappling with something for a while, I will most often just give up, go with the best I can think of at the time, and then restrain myself from editing everything over and over again.
Right. I definitely babble incoherently when I am this tired. I'm not even sure what I've just written. I'm really going to go to bed now. Really...
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