I thought it'd be interesting if I started a public journal about writing and my writing journey. Journey makes you cringe a little doesn't it? Yeah, me too, it sounds like I'm an X factor contestant, and I'm about to insert every tragedy that's ever befallen me into a 30 second segment. But I'm not. I'm not open enough for that.
The other day, I introduced myself as a blogger. I said, "Hey, I'm Afam, and I'm Vimbai's personal blogger." I was at the time. I liked it. I like knowing what I am, and having boxes I can put myself in. There's a certain discomfort to being unlimited or undefined. It's that if you are unlimited and or undefined then the world has no idea how to process you. You cannot be introduced to introduced to anyone properly.
When it comes to meeting new people, I'm a mess. Am I Dami? Am I Afam? Or am I both? And what if you meet me when I'm Afam, and we become good friends, then I'd really rather be Dami to differentiate between the people that know me in a way that isn't professional, and the people who know me because I blog.
I didn't feel bad about introducing myself as a blogger then because I didn't imagine that it might cheapen me. Apparently blogging isn't serious writing. I think that's bullshit, but I would wouldn't I? When someone takes something that you do quite seriously as a joke it's bound to chafe a little bit. Oh well. I don't have the answer. I don't have any answers.
I used a new word today, incarnadine. I never imagined that it'd come out of my head, but there was a moment, and it felt right. No. It felt better than right. There are only so many times you can write magenta in an essay, so it was incarnadine, or reddish pink, or fuchsia. I chose incarnadine.
It's 3:15 in the morning, and I've got some editing to do before I make the drive to work. I work hard you know? I work hard, but I don't always work well. I use way too many thats when I write. It skews the writing towards the chatty in a way that is neither clever nor enlightening. It makes it clunky. Clunkiness is death.