Alright. Why do I write? Because I have to.
And why to write this? Because I believe it’s important to anyone.
Writing is like loving. You won’t be able to stop yourself, won’t be able to make decisions. Not concerning your feelings, that is. You can plan stuff, concerning form and function. You can lead yourself to aims and goals. You can use that stuff you write, or your love, if it’s strong enough, to make others see or feel. But you cannot change that part of your history, your fate, that you have to love, and have to write.
You cannot even judge your writing, just like you could never judge your love. That is a task of others. But, of course, you want to be read. And loved.
And one more thing: When I was prepared to step over this line of which I thought it was there – and, sorry, it probably never was – I did not ask myself how to make it work or how to develop a basis. All I ever did, and all I ever wanted, I had already said, hoping it would suffice.
© 2011