To write is not to die
To write is to give life
Writing is transforming, deforming,
rewriting my existence
Isn’t autobiography
always a kind of auto fiction?
If I’m afraid of my reflection
in other people’s eyes,
the I becomes you
I close my eyes
to find the courage to look,
in the dark,
at my life as it is
or seems to be
Writing is to appear,
to show up or disappear,
in order to reveal myself better
I like to speak my words aloud,
the desire to be heard
stronger than the desire
to be read
I admire the courage of writers
who strip themselves bare.
Even alone in front of the page,
I undress with great restraint
I speak my fears,
I understand my terrors,
but putting them into words
fills me with anxiety
Writing is traveling the world,
and above all, traveling myself
I write what I cannot say
to those close to me,
to spare them
and out of shame as well
I write so I won’t forget
Like a midwife,
I accompany the birth of words
through pain
for an ultimate joy:
Release
Writing is narcissism
disguised as altruism
The hope that exposing my shadows
might bring others some light,
might lift them out
of their loneliness.
But it is mostly I
who need to be read,
listened to,
and ultimately understood
Writing is bearing witness
to my difference
that looks so much like others
I write to give meaning
to my inner chaos,
To tame the turmoil
of my thoughts
I write to exist,
To resist,
To reflect
To write with the blood of my wounds
To mask them,
Reveal them,
And let them heal.
Writing is memory taking power
over what I have lived
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 10:11 PM UTC
To write is not to die
To write is to give life
Writing is transforming, deforming,
rewriting my existence
Isn’t autobiography
always a kind of auto fiction?
If I’m afraid of my reflection
in other people’s eyes,
the I becomes you
I close my eyes
to find the courage to look,
in the dark,
at my life as it is
or seems to be
Writing is to appear,
to show up or disappear,
in order to reveal myself better
I like to speak my words aloud,
the desire to be heard
stronger than the desire
to be read
I admire the courage of writers
who strip themselves bare.
Even alone in front of the page,
I undress with great restraint
I speak my fears,
I understand my terrors,
but putting them into words
fills me with anxiety
Writing is traveling the world,
and above all, traveling myself
I write what I cannot say
to those close to me,
to spare them
and out of shame as well
I write so I won’t forget
Like a midwife,
I accompany the birth of words
through pain
for an ultimate joy:
Release
Writing is narcissism
disguised as altruism
The hope that exposing my shadows
might bring others some light,
might lift them out
of their loneliness.
But it is mostly I
who need to be read,
listened to,
and ultimately understood
Writing is bearing witness
to my difference
that looks so much like others
I write to give meaning
to my inner chaos,
To tame the turmoil
of my thoughts
I write to exist,
To resist,
To reflect
To write with the blood of my wounds
To mask them,
Reveal them,
And let them heal.
Writing is memory taking power
over what I have lived
