To write close to writing. To keep close. But this means, too, that you will have to write of something other than writing; a detour is required, for writing is nothing in itself. A detour: write of yourself, write stories, narrative fragments, write of this, of that – but how to let what you write come close, nonetheless to writing? How to let writing reverberate in what is written?
I am guilty, say that. I am innocent, say that. I am judged, everything written has been judged; white light falls indifferently over all of us. And white light, too, burns upwards from the page; a white writing writes within my own.
How to unwrite every word I have written? How to erase my footprints, and leave the snow pristine, trackless? Wait, wait for writing. Fall down, sleep, and send your dreams ahead. Die in the snow of writing’s indifference. Expire in the indifference of writing, its white snow-banks all around you.
Lars Iyer's Blog 