| property | value |
|---|---|
| created | $=dv.current().file.ctime |
| modified | =this.modified |
| I will have a thought in my head. In placing it on the page, the hazy trueness of it will be lost by excess words. In attempts to further define, and pin down the purpose and root that made me decide to write it, I’ll drift even further (though sometimes bringing it back.) The most true feeling form of the sentence will be that broken, and jangly fragment that captures the sense of what I am trying to say where my explication always digs deeper but continues to subvert itself by this action, further missing the point. Almost there’s the sense of the uncanny valley of a thought, the crystallized remembrance of words (as thought) giving the wrong feeling and becoming trapped. |
I can relate this to troubleshooting at work. I’ll have a problem, perhaps involving other people who I’ll need information from. I hold in my head my own unique model of the problem, and collected information about that problem (say three distinct pieces of evidence my own research has derived.) I’ll know that if I introduce one of these pieces of evidence, it’ll receive focus that is undeserved in my estimation (this could also be my flawed thinking, and the evidence is equally valid but to illustrate my point I’ll keep this thought.)
What also happens is that in troubleshooting or composing an email, someone else in the group will present information to the discourse which has this same “swerving” effect or the passage is constructed in a way that doesn’t point towards a healthy resolution. Granted, a knowledgeable audience will be able to critically evaluate and discard poor evidence. But there’s a sense of me breaking out from the conversation and viewing the resources that should be shared.
This is what the toil of crafting a sentence with a purpose is like. Even in all of these words I’ve written I can’t even say a single thing is of value, or is decided with certainty.