Why is it more difficult to live the moment than it is to see yourself living it?
Words come into play… Out of habit, mainly.
Writing is placing a screen or a shield, and a second one on top of it. Like one filter isn’t enough…
The first screen is the very act of the inner verbalisation in the moment itself, keeping us away from it.
The second shield appears when we try to actually write what we previously thought. It then keeps us away from another moment: the one we should be living instead of wasting it writing what we remember from earlier.
Writing is then being wrong twice…
It can also be a way to sacrifice our own dive in reality for the sake of other people’s shower.
It sounds like a dead end… That would be forgetting poetry.
Poetry is the Way.
Poetry is the real nature of words.
Everyday words are useful conversational tools, useless pervert wastes of time, appearing in a monkey mind to mirror other monkey’s minds.
Poetry injects life at the very heart of words.
It is compulsively, intrinsequely, naturally creative.
Poetry is the saviour of words
Saviour of those they are passing through.
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