Why Blog?

A cat cleans herself. Put a finger in front of her tounge, and she’ll lick that, too, as though you were part of her. Indulgently, not because she extends to you what she would give to herself but because, with your finger, there is more of herself to lick. You are a furless part of her, for that moment. Then she stops.

Why does this remind me of conversations we have with those close to us when it is as though we talk to ourselves? When, suddenly, something of the way we regulate ourselves, our lives manifests itself. ‘You have to be strategic’: this is what I tell others around me. I advise, I hear myself speak, but to whom am I talking?

To the ones I am advising, of course, but also to myself. ‘You have to be strategic’: I say it with a voice so close to my own I had forgotten I can speak otherwise. I speak with the voice which commands me inside me to work, to struggle, to strategise. The voice I dislike because it is capitalism’s voice in my own.  The voice which tells you what you have to do to get on in life.

How do I interrupt this voice? How does it interrupt itself in me? To the answer: why blog? I would say: to give myself to that power of speech that does not come from me. To let my strength fail against writing.

The cat stops licking your finger: it is not a part of her, it’s absurd, she knows it. Her rough tounge retracts. To write is to let speak that accursed part which has no role, no function. Until writing becomes a gift that is not in your power to give and gives itself through so it can call others to write, to abandon themselves to the abandon of writing in turn.