I always wonder what I should write. Oh... I am not a great writer, so I don't have to feel any pressure. I can't write as greatly as Nabokov, Faulkner, or Thoreau. I can see it clearly, and that fact/truth must make me easy to write more. Everything I write is like a bubble. It disappears easily. Then, why don't I write? It must end as a bubble.
But I hesitate to write more because I want to be responsible for my writing. Of course, this writing has some readers. If I didn't write for readers, it said that I just wrote this only as a kind of memo. So thinking about readers should be right but I also think that I am the reader of my writings. I guess various things from my writings and even I care myself. What is happening? Why is the writer so sad (it also says "why am I sad?").
In other words, I always try to find myself in the writings. But this has a paradox. I am here. This body that moves my fingers equals me. But also, I am trying to find myself. Which is true? I can't see. I am always too close to me or too far from me. I know what I'm thinking... of course, this is true. But I sometimes get surprised at the writing and find unknown truth about myself.
Oh... I am just like a mirage. I try to get closer to it but it goes from me. Always... Ah, I wrote too many words. I thought I couldn't write today's words. Remember the fact that I wrote, "I always wonder what I should write". I am an easy person so I forget what I have been writing. Always "now here" is in me. And tomorrow, I will write another one after forgetting everything...
