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All the Roads in their Entirety


כל הדרכים כולן

Sometimes, in writing, the road not taken, is all the roads in their entirety, because all the roads could have been chosen, and there was something so confusing and threatening about it, that the writing chose, in the very last crossroad, not to be written. He can go to the beach but he can also go on a plane and fly to Siberia. He can be thirty but he can also be a hundred and twenty. He can be him and he can be them. He can be but he may also not be. It may even be, that it may be, since the writing is a matter of illusions, that he is perfectly capable of a be-not-be diffusion. He really doesn’t have to be like the writing, this forever restless writing, which constantly asks itself whether to be or not to be.


From → Writing

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