I'm not trying my sentences. erstwhile written on a part of paper, black-blue or turquoise ink, they decision on to the world. In letters, in postcards written for the nearest hearts, in wishes of all occasions, in notes that I keep “for later”. From the writings of the word they jump into the files of articles, emails, in short – no-carcases, though not heartless – records run the way social media, carrying words and pictorial writing, a subduing thought of a given emotion. Everyone's a message. all word has its place, meaning, meaning. Each is in a different way valuable, giving justice to “history to tell”, values to convey, thoughts to share, information to convey/store. Everyone tries to see the planet as it is, recounts, interprets, opens, closes, values, hierarchies, depreciates, confirms or contradicts, objectively, and then subjugates the state of things that he wants to tell. Word means. Passed from mouth to ear, repeated by mouth, he hopes that the effect of a deaf telephone will not control him, that he will not get stuck in a rumor (although this is sometimes... needed), will not change into small, will not be shouted in empty talk. The word, already written, will stay with us for longer. He's telling the worlds that you and I have.
Like speech, Scripture is more than a simple sum of words spoken or written by us. More than in any way a slanted cut of letters, more than a scribbled “like a chicken claw”, more than a noble art of calligraphy. It is more than a sign distinguishing 1 from another, a native tongue or translated from 1 to the another and beyond, many more. He's... possibly the last thing we truly have. Scripta manet. What is written is not eluded as spoken in haste. It does. From the words written (no substance what form it is today) it is much more hard to withdraw, to consider them as unusual, to cross, to deny or to lie. In view of the writing, it is harder to say, "It is not me," "It is not mine," "I have not seen it," and even if it is, the lie has short legs here, and at worst leads to a graphologist.
What is written/written has power. It's in us and with us. The reading gives you to think, in any cases even demanding rereading – to understand, learn, remember, understand, to... rejoice or move, yet to weep. The evidence gives emergence to a kind of requirement: to keep a contract, a commitment or a promise. The evidence gives emergence to consequences, including legal ones. The evidence allows us to regain control, says, “I am checking”, reminds us of who we are, and at another times it powerfully tells us who we want to be. It is simply a private evidence of dreams and longing that we are even afraid to talk out. Not for nothing – in different contexts – it has been said that "paper will accept everything", it is more patient and intimate than social media, by defeating us to perpetuate even what we are not necessarily willing or willing to share with the world.
At the same time, it is premature to think that the time has come “after writing”. That we have left the symbolic feathers... Another writing, besides "knacked" in the keyboard, inactive requires words, sentences, stories, and even if it happens for us, then it does not claim to be right to why and for whom we started thinking, asking, writing. due to the fact that even now... I write... for you, but for myself. inactive practicing writing. inactive expanding the vocabulary.
