On personal prose

I have been told much about my writing. Some commend, while some condemn.

Writing, in common with many of my favorite disciplines: Engineering, Music, …, can be treated as a spectral or singular choice of art & science. I generally choose the former for my writing, at least in a context like this.

Perhaps my wannabe-Victorian style writing is obnoxious to those who want words fully distilled, but I couldn’t be bothered to apologize or change.

It is rewarding for me to experiment (artistically? scientifically? both?) with our goofy human language, both to constantly prove its fallibility and to arrive at something written that more accurately depicts what goes on behind my eyes, sometimes masking something clear behind a superfluous abstraction. This, I find to be both metaphorical and literal in its applicabilition to our world - which I prefer.

I do not advocate against clarity in the absolute. Rather, I prefer to rummage around in the unique - per my curious nature, at the expense of mass-appeal.

The good news is that nobody is paying me for this shit, and I don’t care if anyone reads, or gets anything out of my writing at all, ever.

Wonderful. Cheerio.