bloog bleeg blegh

I can’t say “No” to myself. That’s a big mistake in writing. Not in rewriting, but that is something else.

I’m being strict and strained. I am exhausted and I don’t think it’s just the heat. Yesterday in the grocery store my voice took on a far-away quality that it had two years ago when there was too much to think about. A cracking shouting from across the field.

The things I am writing now–the things I have been writing–have to be “good”. That is what I tell myself. They have to lead to some “cohesive whole”. Well, writing doesn’t always have to be like that. Tone is the most important thing. If you find it, you keep striking until you’re done. If you haven’t found it, you try and establish it. If you can’t do that, maybe what you’re working on will never work. That’s fine. There are plenty of other things to write about.

***

When I write, I’m meditating. It’s the only form of meditation I know. If some idea catches me and takes hold, that’s fine. It will happen. But until then I am practising meditation, practising breathing, negotiating my existence with the raucous chorus that’s life. The chorus that I’ve always witnessed from the shores of my little island, watching it wink in the sun through my periscope.

Writing is an action as much as it is an activity. An act of assertion. An act of impression–impressing myself onto myself.

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