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[esmeraldasjudgment]

Bad Writer

I am a bad writer. I can put together correctly spelled words to form complete sentences. I follow the majority of grammatical rules, and apply punctuation properly most of the time. But, I am still a terrible writer.

There is a clear demarcation between the words I use when composing a written piece and the words I use when actually speaking. Part of the reason my voices are so disparate is the ability to revise these phrases before submitting them for anyone else to experience.

My work always appears to have an edge of pretentiousness, an over the top application of the English language that would actually sound foreign if used in real life. This is the impression I get when I go back to review my posts. It's entirely bothersome and frustrating to realize I am incapable of carrying on a normal conversation in written form.

Every word, phrase, sentence, and paragraph is meticulously edited during the creative process to ensure I am conveying the appropriate content for that which I am attempting to achieve. Yet, in doing so, I somehow always forget the lesson I repeatedly berate myself for: real people do not talk this way.

There is no solution to this irksome habit. Even if there were an answer to this vexing dilemma, it is highly unlikely I'd take the necessary steps to rehabilitate myself. There are so many words, so many synonyms, that communicate so many meanings. I find I am dissatisfied with using lesser, more "normal" terms when the perfect expression for my message turns out to be a five syllable word that only PhDs use in their dissertations.

Because I refuse to alter my methods, I am forever cursed to walk in the footsteps of ostentatious teenagers trying to differentiate themselves by abusing their dog-eared thesauruses in order to appear smarter amongst their peers. This is my affliction, my tribulation, but I own it.

I am a bad writer. You have been warned.

[esmeraldasjudgment]

The Appeal of Anonymity

There is power in anonymity. The power to announce boldly all the secret little things hidden behind the façade of normalcy. The power to analyze, examine, and interpret without fear of personal judgment. It is a state where words have few consequences, and even fewer repercussions.

It is attractive to momentarily put down the mask that we display outwardly to those around us, to give voice to all the inner monologues that are not acceptable in polite society. It is therapeutic to finally air all the petty, little grievances that usually get stored away deep inside because the potential drama is considered inappropriate. It is a great gift to say aloud all the crazy, circling fragments that don’t conform to any standards of our modern world, to flash our naked selves confidently across the screen from beneath the trench coat of civilized behavior (which is an absurd metaphor, but does get the point across).

This freedom to reveal all the gritty, ridiculous, painful, and enlightened thoughts without fear of damaging current relationships is essential, I believe, to mental survival in the current state of things. There are certain fabrics of society that cannot be stained by the truth of our disdain without also suffering severe personal backlash. Conversely, it is also equally challenging to state admiration for certain ideas within the confines of current culture without condemnation from loved ones with differing opinions.

For an extreme example, if I were to say in real life that I loathe my child, the community I am surrounded by would become unglued. I would be viewed as a monster, a villain, an overall terrible person. Furthermore, if I were to say all churches should pay taxes, while not as controversial as the previous statement, it would still incite censure from the religious and the constitutionalists alike.

Here, however, secure in my anonymity, I can entertain all manner of thoughts, feelings, ideas, and experiences without fear. I can cohesively investigate my introspection in order to refine my thoughts or, hopefully, uncover the inherent flaws. I can explore, flesh out, and examine the mundane alongside the contentious. I can vent in the heat of the moment. I can wax poetic. Or I can simply babble on for a few sentences (or paragraph after paragraph) in a post with no actual point.

I now stand upon the threshold of self-discovery.  Buffered by the security of anonymity, this journey will hopefully allow a semblance of understanding as I traverse the chaotic landscape of unconventional thought. With trepidation and cautious exhilaration, I now take the first step.