Writing

Writing is weird.

You make these scratches on paper and they mean something to you. Maybe something very profound. Maybe a shopping list.

But to some, they would be just symbols, squiggles. Nothing. Meaningless.

When I write down my thoughts, they become much clearer to me. I can understand better what I am actually thinking and feeling when I write it all down.

People would argue much less if they had to stop and put their thoughts down, coherently, on paper before they opened their mouths.

Introverts prefer to write out their feelings, while extroverts prefer to talk them out. Considering that many couples are intro/extrovert pairs, it's a wonder that any of us communicate effectively at all!

By writing, I find out what I'm thinking. A clumsy method? Otherwise I'd never find out.

Writing is like getting married. One should never commit oneself until one is amazed at one's luck.

Murdoch, Iris (1919)
Irish-born British novelist. The Black Prince, `Bradley Pearson's Foreword', 1974

does writing have magical power? Our lives are endless scripts which we have unknowingly written. Science claims our very being has been written as DNA. Our communications are pre-written as software, code. Can we de-encrypt our selves?

A novel that does not uncover a hitherto unknown segment of existence is immoral. Knowledge is the novel's only morality.

(Milan Kundera)

I kiss him as he writes.

Slowly, on his neck.

His breathing changes slowly.

I know he is aroused.

We do not keep going, when we do this, it is about the writing, not about the sex.

My body fuels him.

He writes in his lust, in his pleasure.

Once I heard him groan outloud,

just sitting at his computer.

One day he will work out how we can fuck as he writes – a balance of concentration.

The most precious sentence...

written as we come.