bla bla bla out to sea.
So many times a writer thinks "did I communicate this right? did I use the words, sentences to say what I wanted to say?" - well, did I even know what to say and then did I say what I thought I wanted to say or did I just say what I said and then read what I said and said to myself that what I said was not what I wanted to say. For writers saying and writing is the same activity.The same verb.
Voices in my head! Shadows on the Wall! Bla Bla Bla, they never shut up so writing and saying is just the same. Bla Bla Bla. Words crashing your brain, pushing against you, disturbing your breakfast appearing out of nowhere, thieves of your attention. There you are cleaning your desk or repairing a bicycle and words just show up in your head and want to be formed and stuffed in casings like sausages. Imagine there you are with a screwdriver in your hand and these words like sausage meat just pressing out and you have to somehow stuff'em, stuff into some kind of casing or a bag or a box or something because they are like vomit all over you. Words like that, like a fireshose shooting sausage meat directly into your brain.
And what to do? What is there to be done in this situation? Well, many things. Recently ignoring it seems to work. Ignoring it completely. Working on ignoring, sweating ignoring, heavy lifting of ignoring, a monumental work of ignoring going on. Large fields of time ignoring, digging trenches of ignoring, meliorating, ditches, dikes, pushing words out back to the sea like dutchmen with canals and contraption made of wood and metal and brain power and dynamite and cannonballs and rapiers, swords, clogs, delft pottery and tulips, fields and fields of tulips.
There the words no longer crashing, the dikes holding, a screwdriver in my hand I am ready to face the day.
