I’ll Never Write on Me!
In a way, every single word we write tells about us… in a way, indeed. But what about directly writing on ourselves? You’ll agree that this is another endeavor!
I’m the person I know the most about: this abundance of knowledge is counterproductive.
Imagine, for example, that I write about my childhood: the intimacy of the scenes and of the feelings I would reveal would put outside myself (on the computer screen as well as on a piece of paper) my inner self.
That’s the point.
The distance between me and the description I might write of myself is at the same time enormous and inconsistent, just enough to exist to be annihilated.
The fact is that, even being me, I’m not an expert at all of myself. I’d be too close to the subject matter and I’d write blurred. But that blurred writing would be me and, as a consequence, I’d blur myself.
Sounds complicated? Yes, it does. Writing is extreme complication that becomes, with hard work, simple, clear, adamantine.
Shyness
Let’s adopt a slightly different language, and say that I’m simply too shy to write about myself.
I’m not saying that I am shy, it’s just an example.
In that case I’d avoid to write on myself because I feel my life not enough interesting for the other people. Or because I fear of being judged.
Whatever the reason of my shyness could be, the point is that I feel uncomfortable with showing up my inner me.
In a way, shyness can’t tolerate to put outside what was born to be inside.
Again, that’s the point.
Why I can’t
I can’t exaclty know the reason why I don’t want to write about me. That might be due either to shyness or something else: I’d need to write on me to reach that awareness, but something blocks me.
This has to do with the belief that I am, like every single human being is, a story.
You know: a story cannot tells itself, someone else outside the story can, instead.
Technically (autobiographies exist…) I might write on myself, but it would be a short-circuit, like an implosion in myself (like a black hole). And I fear of implosions, because they evoke darkness.
Nevertheless, as I wrote at the beginning, every single word we write tells about us, and this writing is not an exception, regardless the title…
