How to Write

I haven’t been writing much lately. But I’ve been thinking a lot about writing.
I’m taking writing classes at an academy, learning the rules of the craft. The more I learn them, the more I feel the urge to rebel against them.

Why?
Perhaps simply because I’m starting to realize that I’m not very good at writing that way.
Maybe I’m not good at writing at all. How else could it be that I never get published?

But when I set aside the doubt and self-criticism for a moment, other reasons appear.
For instance, I don’t actually enjoy writing “by the rules of the craft.” By that I mean writing a story with a gripping plot, strong characters, technically sound structure, and logical coherence. Or a poem where every word is perfectly placed, the rhythm flows smoothly, and multiple meanings intertwine beneath the surface.

I know this because I’ve tried it. Again and again, to the point of frustration.
I’ve discovered that writing like that takes a lot of work.
Of course, one could say: writing is an art, and art is a bit of talent and a lot of work.

Only I don’t want to work when I write.
What attracts me to writing is precisely that it isn’t work.
My writing is a rebellion against any kind of imperative, including the idea that you must work to achieve something.
I seek a kind of freedom that isn’t possible.
I try to express something that cannot be expressed within the limits of my life.

The impossible desire, the forbidden act of defiance, the inconsistent thought.
they have no place in my daily life.
There, I try too hard to be a good friend, lover, employee, son, brother, and so on.
And to take good care of myself, too. Because I want to stay healthy as long as I can, so I can keep saying how stupid life is, and how ridiculous our aspirations are to make something of it.

Let this website be the little corner where I retreat, exhausted after work,
to confront reality with the flawed weapon of words.
A battle lost before it even begins.
But even in defeat, there is joy.