Another one just for fun.
Words
How do you start? There, right there. Sometimes ending with a question mark and sometimes ending with a full stop. But why? Why do we put words down on paper? Is it to create, express or to confess? It seems to me that whilst we write our thoughts are focused, uninhibited and uncensored. The voice we hear, reading internally each word as we type, prevents us from straying, prevents us from hiding … perhaps? From what would we be hiding though?
They say to ‘write from your own experience.’ That doesn’t mean place down words describing our day, it means open your soul for examination. Each and every one of us has exactly the same ingredients. It’s only the quantity of each ingredient that makes us unique.
So, when we take ourselves, dig deep into our minds and find those little lost graves we thought we’d buried long ago, we feel free to attribute them to others, to our ‘characters’. They carry our burden. And in so doing, show us who we truly are. We never admit to ourselves of course. Why would we?
And yet, even as I type these words, I see nothing of myself here. Only words. It’s because I’m expressing the truth. The irony then is that only when we lie with words can we fully appreciate the truth behind them.
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