viernes 24 de abril 2019
I also write just because... because it all hurts a little less while the words assemble quietly on the page. They distract me from the void. For a few seconds they fill me with a Lispectorian confidence that I dare not question. But when they stop marching for too long the noise comes back. So I nudge them on no matter what. I make them take up space. Then I ask them why and they slap me in the face. I deserved it. Write first. Ask “why” later. There will probably be time for that question some other day. I hope there is more time to swim with fish in warm waters. They make me wonder myself out of sadness. It’s the beginner’s mind I was reading about last night. Seeing everything anew. Just like writing, wet, salty, scaly curiosity helps. It spells out the way and it is a spell and I am a witch. Not sure what kind of witch but no one cares yet. I use the word “witch” cause it’s trendy but I’m sure I’ll find better reasons to use it.
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