Writing is the alibi for inner life.
Life emerges on the sheet’s surface.
The paper outlet offers inner life a reason for being. Even though, it does not need any reason to be. It is.
It is not because the lotus does not show on the water surface that the lotus is not.
Writing occurs when one reports on an other’s inner life.
There is the alibi.
The excuse to be the way he is : aloof, cold, sensitive, unpredictable, silent, recluse….
Writing is the misfit’s entry ticket for society.
They spill ink currency and pay the participation toll in the shape of an artistic, testamentary contribution to humanity’s archives. They offer a cross section of human psyche.
Writing is a survival means which keeps downplaying how important it really is.
©FJ Feb 2021 –
Groupe de Pratique
Recueils — Participations
Many thanks to all.
Notes & Silence 
Wow, this resonates a lot, very beautiful piece. Insightful. 👌🌹
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Thanks, Amber. … As I proof read the French version this morning…I wasn’t sure I understood what I originally meant when I wrote it..nor that it actually meant anything at all. I almost binned it
Thanks for for your feedback. ..
Have a nice day.
f
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I am glad you didn’t, it is a profound piece of writing. Enjoy your week. 🙏
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It’s a good thing that depths and usual understanding are two different things.
Thanks again
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So beautiful Franck
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Merci Ananda…
Thanks for your comments. It’s very nice of you to read all this.
Your reading means a lot.
A bientôt
franck
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Great to read this. I love where writing takes us. How I feel nothing and then, almost like therapy, craft together the feelings that have yet to be named.
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Nicely said….
Great to had you read this
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