Blogging has allowed me to become a true, and very contented, word snob. I have always loved words. As a teenager, I kept a duo-tang (who remembers those?) filled with lined paper and would make note of all the unfamiliar words I came across while devouring all the books I used to read. Those words that eluded my pubescent mind became a staple of my vocabulary once I had defined them and cemented them into the library of my brain. They circled my imagination and urged my cerebrum to come out to play. They tickled my tongue and they began to flow like blood in my veins.
(look at how lovely my penmanship was in high school)
I assiduously began to incorporate those words into as many scenarios as I could. My teachers were duly impressed. My fellow students merely looked at me like I had three heads. My flamboyant wordiness was an ephemeral fantasy and I had to tone down my elevated rhetoric to become a conventional high-school student filled with angst rather than synonyms.
Today I still continue to incorporate those words into my daily conversations, not to sound more intelligent but, because I enjoy the way those words sound when I say them aloud. I relish being able to use the phrase ‘alarmingly verbose’ instead of just saying “he talked a lot”. I enjoy describing winter as arduous and not just “shitty”, although shitty can truly encapsulate the past six months. And I will forever want to be mystified by language and not speak simply to communicate. I want to thrive in my love for words.
My enthusiasm for articulate phrases has never waned. It has followed me throughout my journey. It has haunted my sleep and clandestinely pursued me during my conscious hours.
May those words forever churn in the maelstrom of my imagination and may I always be able to maintain my romance with the language of expression.