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.
P. P. P.
Ahora: retomo el pie forzado original de este archivo digital - documentar mi práctica diaria de movimiento en la orilla en 100 palabras