Thoughts On Writing

A collection of writings on… well, writing.


So why, actually, do you [want to] write?

I think I’m bursting but I don’t know with what.

Maybe writing is like taking a pen, sticking it into skin and seeing what’s inside.


She said

I need sleep

It said, you know what stay up because

you need to grasp at those creative moments

she said,

but I’m tired, recording is tough

it said, you only live each of this once

she had to concede it was right

but then when it came the time to right -write

she could only record the conversation of getting there

and did not write-right about Jonachian ethics

about him leaving the room

about the tiny smile but also the silence

always the silence where she just wants him to say or to write, to finally finally express

let it out, it’s only a flood a torrent

and countless cells of your body die when you pop a pimple, anyway.


Yeah, Countless.

Countless the amount of times that, pushed by something which is not my planning mind

I turn to paper – well, virtual paper

and let fingers dance a little bit

now, replacing the movement of my own dying body

the body that wants to jump dance scream sing

but is held back, probably by habit

then by tiredness.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: