That which is written
I am a writing person. I don't know why, But I can't do much about it. Although it often poses to me problems. In general, words, Particularly written down, to worry, Especially in private relationships.
What is written seems so definitely. All the shades and questions are not with, Although the recorded often is just a question, a way to try a thought or feeling and with it create perspective that can give just shades, But it is a consequence of a thought being formulated, and the result is not visible in the letters.
That's why it's so dangerous, ja, devastating to read other people's diaries. You can get a very wrong idea of what is going on in the one whose diary you read. Och Because the one who reads often does not want to admit it, Soon a diffuse but destructive confusion occur, Since the diary writing does not know why the other is angry, disappointed, accusatory, suspicious. And to be accused of something one does not understand what it is, Creates great anxiety and abyss.
The powerful with the written word turns out even when the accused explains why they wrote si or so, chosen just that word or that expression. It spoke the word, expressed in the present, with the eyes of the other's eyes, with a voice that feels insecure and keen, are not on long roads as persuasive as the words that are written down in a diary, or a letter.
This creates problems for anyone who writes to orient themselves in existence, actually use writing as a compass to stay present and true. Plötsligt, do they appear as liars and faints instead, As if they are in one way or another unfaithful a joint project.
What should a man who has to write to understand where it is in life do? Of course, the most obvious answer to the dilemma is that no one should read someone else's diaries and letters.
But probably we have all been through situations, When we felt uncertain and really believed that the answer to our concern is in the other's written words?
Today when everyone is sitting with their phones I have understood that a great uncertainty, the one we all have not to be desired and loved, buzzing in a blue -and -white silence. What does my dear do when he or she sits and writes on the phone, small, is eager? Is going on a parallel life while I look at? One cannot ask all the time what the other is doing, whom the other communicates with, But people devote much of their lives to something on their phones, Someone else, While we are in their immediate vicinity, And no one really knows what the other is doing.
My young hairdresser told us about his friends, A young couple, as quarreling on sms. They dare not meet with tears and worry – all that is unworthy and independent and that we do not want to bare when we feel weak. So instead they write sms to each other. Although they live under the same roof.
And the written words seem so definitive. So uninjured. As if they are the truth. While they spoke the words, Teared eyes and appeal, appears as a lie.
I understand that operation to want to hide behind something written. At first it was very good to be able to write sms instead of calling and talking. Men nu?
It is as if many of us have forgotten that we can call each other. In the end we may never be really real for each other. For we are breathing, voices, Tone and whim, looks. This is how we get the power of each other. But if we stop daring to meet in conflict, How should we dare to meet in love?
