Ay

.

"A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation

is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul,

and that, I am sure, is why he does it." -- Roald Dahl

not a writer i am, but a fool just the same.


i think myself out of something as easily as i could talk myself into nothing. this moment is no exception as i have always been into something like this, such that every moment is something out of nothing like nothing out of something.


i leave my thoughts scattered around like broken notes of some showers song that bounced off bathroom tiles, riding waves to nowhere, or taking refuge on this window. i’ll be proud if those thoughts were woven into words as breathtaking as yours, but they’re hopelessly not; i can even be prouder perhaps than the fool that i already am, as fools always are -- but words don’t come easy to fools who try to write like they do to writers though fools they have become.


i think me out of the morning when terror gripped a child of five summers as he witnessed a cop’s car ran over his pet dog; when mother laughed off the child’s face ashened by the sheer horror of it all, trembling as he peeped through a hole on the kitchen door.


i think me out of the letters when a lover fought a losing bid to save a faulty romance, to save whatever was left in the honored warrior that he was. i think myself out of a failed struggle for freedom, such that in doing so, i gain liberty, momentarily, albeit that of a fool.


is it my soul that speak if i talked myself into nothing from out of something like this, written out of a nothing that to this fool was everything?


is it my soul that has been shaped by fear, long shackled in panic, tortured by anxiety in moments like this, that sets time back to everything when it was?


i think, hence, i think.

.

ay am my soul.


not a writer i am, but a fool just the same. freedom i find in being a fool in spite of being not a writer. good thing am only half aware of it, as


i shut my eyes and leave my thoughts on a blank screen... and i won’t mind if some other fool would ensnare them in quotes, like i did yours -- i won’t mind because i wouldn’t even know about it, like you do now.

.