“Nothing has really happened until it has been recorded.”
Writing is what I do when I am not sure whether I exist or not. It is what I do when I want to make sure that things are still happening, or that there are still thoughts in my head and I don’t have the energy to prove it to myself in any other way. It is not complicated. It accesses a different corner of my mind than anything else I do and I love witnessing the black ink seeping onto the page, gradually and predictably filling up what was blank just seconds before. Writing is a way for me to more cleanly hear my thoughts. Innumerable mundane and annoyed sentiments inevitably come tumbling out onto the page, and then from those somehow emerges a different voice, a more truthful and distant voice. I don’t write for any other reason than to let through what is already in me and wants to travel through me, and in a way it is the purest form of art for me because there is no technique involved. I simply hear words and write them down without being conscious of what they might mean and then later discover the sense and relevance contained within them.
I have never had anything formally published and I don’t know that I want to, but I do know that part of what I have to say is coming in the form of words.