If I’m being honest, nothing I write is truly my “voice.” In the real world, where real people are, I’m unable to speak as clearly as I do in writing. I never say things that are nearly as profound, and I most definitely don’t speak at the same vocabulary level. It’s not that I write in a more sophisticated way than I speak, it’s just that in person I speak loud and quickly. In doing so, I’m unable to press delete, go back, and correct myself. I am a plethora (new word I learned) of figures of speech that I’m vaguely familiar with. When I want to get an idea across, I want to get it across as quickly and easily as possible. Which inevitably leads me to eagerly venturing into the territory of half-learned phrases that I embarrassingly say way too often.
($5.00 to whoever can find all of the ones I use in here.)
Another thing: I’m not that funny. I mean I’m funny, but not funny. Does that make sense? If given the time and the appropriate amount of alcohol, yeah, I’ll make you laugh, but if I can just type? Give me 20 words to butter you up and I’ll have you doing anything I want. Seriously.
Listen: I’m insecure. (Obviously.) So in truth I don’t really know what my voice is like, what my persona is like. I have body dismorphia, personality dismorphia, [INSERT ANYTHING]morphia, so it’s really hard to see myself through a truthful, critical eye, because I think everything I create is shit. I know I make people laugh (sometimes), and I know I’m attractive (sometimes), but does my written voice perfectly correlate with how I speak in real life? Probably not. Is my voice in this blog post close to my true “authentic” voice? Who knows.
I think it’s important to note the reasons I signed up for the minor:
- I loved my English 124 class with Jaimien Delp and I craved more creative classes that my Biochemistry major couldn’t provide.
- I felt writing was one of my things. Like I was one of those writer guys and I was quickly losing that.
- I wanted to get better. I felt I lost focus. I didn’t know if my writing was ever good or not, and I felt myself getting lazier and lazier. I claimed it as “pushing the boundaries” but the line between passive and innovative is shockingly smaller than you think.
So, no, now that I think about it, I don’t know what my voice is anymore. I’m smart. Does that mean my academic essays are more me? I’m goofy. Does that mean the parentheses I add in, the sentence fragments, the filler words (e.g. like, I mean), the bitchiness show the real me?
I’ve grown a lot in the past year. Lots of ups and downs and everywhere in-between. I’ve cried a few too many times and smoked weed even more. At this point, I don’t even know what I am. But, if I’m being honest, I’m probably just being dramatic.
There you have it.
Complete identity crisis in almost* 500 words or less.
Let’s see what the next post brings.
*531 words, to be exact.