UNWORDY

In his last post, my friend Cavalier (in French!) said something about writing, the kind of writing that sometimes escapes, sometimes goes in ways we had not expected. It got me thinking.

Lately I have been both very inspired and very frustrated with my writing. In fact, so much is happening, which I just can’t seem to write about.

I hope that someday, someone will explain how come I seem to always end up with anonymous blogs where I just cant’t talk about my life in precise terms.

Maybe it’s just not how I write… Maybe even if I could talk, I would leave the details out. It appears I cannot find a middle ground betweens words that sound like the lightest touch ever, and words that feel like getting hit with a snow shovel in the head.

Oh well…

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Et ça me fait penser que le langage le plus cru c’est peut-être pas celui qu’on croit; peut-être, oui, que c’est plutôt celui qui décharne et qui serpente, qui se déchire de ne rien dire et de tout dire en même temps,

comme la tempête de neige qui sévit derrière la fenêtre,

comme une session qui commence et dont on a oublié de se préoccuper,

tout en même temps ou rien du tout, un détritus d’ascenseur, un chèque qu’on a oublié d’encaisser,

merde je voudrais tellement, tellement vous dire que…

(À suivre, peut-être / To be continued, or not)