These days I have not been able to put writing out into the world easily. I keep feeling that it has to be perfect, that the argument has to be clean, that it needs firm references. I have not even been able to put my own thoughts down. At the moment I release a piece of writing, I often feel that I am not a person who matches what I wrote. Still, I am going to write now.
The biggest reason I write, in truth, is that the moment I write I immediately realize how lacking I am. When I claim, “I will live this kind of life,” I cannot help seeing my actual state. I want to learn to enjoy that resistance now. I want to keep feeling that resistance and bring back the life I ought to live. I want to reveal the selves that have been layered over one another. Right now I am too weak, far too weak. How could I protect anyone like this?
Two years ago, when I was much more ignorant and younger than I am now, I posted short notes about what I had studied on a blog. Even now they look crude, but today I saw that they have about 200,000 views. Consistency can work magic in this way too.