I used to have
a locked place designed only for two and there were people going in and out, knocking
the door and closing the room.
I let them.
I let you.
ideas are wild.
they swim across your mind ceaselessly; bad or pleasant, imaginative or reflective, of present or future.
writing, for me, is one of the ways of taming ideas; picking them one by one, linking them together, and grounding them in letters instead of letting them roam dangerously inside your head.
the process of converting ideas to written words is never easy. ideas hold such great depth and power within them and finding words that manage to portray that kind of intensity is an intricate job only human can do.
that makes writing, for me, an attempt of being a complete human.
i write, i create, thus i exist. i establish myself by arranging my thoughts and ideas; i live through writing them all down. writing immortalizes you and all the things that make you human: your view, your feelings, your memories, your wishes. if i write, though my body is decaying, my ideas will be mummified within my words. i never cease to exist in written works of my thoughts.
i genuinely hope that my ideas and my words presented here are to be treasured, whether now or many, many years later.
i start this blog to document my (most of them are written) works and life. may they be as enjoyable to read as much as i enjoy writing them. and may this run for a long time, and with as much fervor as i begin with.
cheers,
ζ
