Ambiguity has been my arch nemesis throughout my life. Since the earliest phases of elementary school, I have consciously avoided the ambiguous. Give me 100 pages to read, but please don't ask me to clean my room. I know when a book is finished, but when, exactly is a room "clean?" And now, I find adulthood is a series of ambiguities. And worse, yet, that my job is to confront the ultimate embodiment of ambiguity--the blank page. To date, I the implicit task in my mind was figuring out what is
supposed to be on a blank page and trying to write that. Consequently, I wrote from an insecure place, and it manifested in my writing. Now, I am transitioning from asking "what is supposed to be on a page" to simply delving into myself and representing whatever thoughts I have on the topic. And that is a far superior project because what is in my head, in my mind, in my spirit, is not ambiguous. It is sharp, clear, and valuable...And I know when it is finished... :)
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