RE: The Danger of Automatic Writing (Day 3)
so much clever word play, where to begin, Yahia?
you seem to answer, "with laughter", is there a better intro for such, than:
I am only a pile of words
atop a stack of bones
stockpiling ink-pressions
and, while I laugh at inkpressions, it's a seamless transition to thought. How much of my word pile is only there because of the impressions ink has left upon me? 50%? 70%? all of who I am as a writer? I don't know, but I often struggle with how broad the shoulders I stand on are.
"Gone deep-self diving, again", the fourth wall that forces me up for air, the cleverness of bounced checks bounced on me while I was under, but the references to my cockroach life are not missed. Was Canaan only the "Promised Land", for no third place exists for mankind?
I'm glad there is so much cleverness here to keep me from wallowing like I do with my scrawlings, haha, you're too kind to leave the window open for me before my room started to spin.
and yet, I can't help but be pleased with the cyclical nature of it all and the constant, subconscious mindfulness on display even when your mind is consciously not minding itself.
Always an enlightening read, you. Thank you so much for sharing.
Alain @carmalain7, it's good to hear from you, again! Thank you, for your generous attentions, and congratulations on your win—the dizzy heights of your intricate entry sets the bar high :)
You're right to start with laughter, I hope to end with it, too, off the page... I can't tell you, my friend, how sick to the back teeth I am of darkness and all that is complicated and morbid, especially in myself. That is why I only permit it to exist, on the page, so long as it is mercilessly mocked. Maybe it's age/stage of life, but I now aspire to simplicity, light-heartedness and a kind of recovered innocence. This is wisdom as I have come to understand it, in life/literature.
Ideally, if it were entirely up to me, I'd only write praise poetry, nowadays, or verse that echoes the Silence from which it came. Less words and noise and confusion, if possible...
As for poetry, frankly, I don't consider myself an 'advanced' poet, only a poet, mysteriously, when I'm writing one (which has never been daily). After that, I'm too bewildered and superstitious to speak of anything like creative process. Best of luck with your work and thank you, for indulging me.