Hey readers, friends, ex lovers, one current lover, colleagues, clients and more:
Maybe, if I write for long enough, something will change inside of me. Something will change inside of you.
Hey readers, friends, ex lovers, one current lover, colleagues, clients and more:
I’ve been writing for so many weeks now that I’ve lost track. Is it 70 weeks? 80? Maybe more, maybe less; it’s the most consistent thing I’ve ever done in my life. Some weeks I sit down bursting with joy and love, and some weeks I can’t type a word. I keep writing because I keep writing. I always wonder when I’ll find the courage to pause.
There’s something cathartic about hitting publish every week. I’ve written in so many countries, in so many different states of exhaustion. I’ve written happy stuff and sometimes I’ve written some really sad memories. I keep writing because I think one day I’ll write enough to uncover what I really want to say. One day I’ll write what I really want you to know.
Some weeks, I stare at the screen, willing my fingers to type. Nothing comes, so I write nonsense. I write the lightest thoughts in my mind in hopes of uncovering the “truth”. Who knows what the truth is, anyways? I keep writing until I write something that resembles something publish worthy, and then I publish. And then you read it. And slowly, my dear readers, friends, ex lovers, one current lover, colleagues, clients and more, you start to understand me.
I’m so distracted in life. Always doing something, going somewhere. The pictures I take on my phone remind me of a lie. They capture a reality that exists in the camera settings. I used to think that words do the same, but I realized words do something else; they put a story into my head, into your head, until we both start to believe it. And it stays. That’s the difference between pictures and words. Words reshape our reality.
I keep writing because I want to choose my reality. I want to show you the reality I choose to live and I hope you choose to accept the same. I want you to remember the guy I met on the beach and not think of him as a pedophile, but remember he was just a kid when he hurt his sister. Just like my sister did to me. I want you to read about the homeless man who asked to talk. Instead of turning your nose and ignoring him, which I sometimes do too, I want you to live the reality of seeing his humanity, his realness, our similarity. When I write about a singer that many people have heard, I want you to notice the distractions that created her show and not the words or tunes she sang.
If you’ve been reading my stuff for a long time, you know all the stories I reference above. If you haven’t, it’s okay. You’ll discover other realities as long as I keep typing. I don’t know when I’ll stop. I’d like to imagine I’ll keep typing forever. Maybe that’s our reality now. Even if these forever is a lie just like pictures are.
My dear readers, friends, ex lovers, one current lover, colleagues, clients and more, thank you for reading. You allow me to enter your minds and create realities I conjure with my own experiences. Everything I write is true (unless I write that it’s not true) but everything in life is just words and pictures and memories of something that happened. I appreciate you believing me. I appreciate you reading me. I appreciate you understanding me.
With love,
Yehudis
I appreciate you too ♥️
"...one day I’ll write enough to uncover what I really want to say. One day I’ll write what I really want you to know." Maybe a dumb question, but do you think these might be the same thing or different things?