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.