Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

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1 00 2016threads-of-becoming  


Words are like bricks. You pile them up and then you have text. But these days, words melt in my mouth before I can build anything. Like glaciers my words retreat, like seashores my words erode, like paper my words fade out, and they become a smothering dust that choke the inner flame that fuels my craft. Perhaps I'm wrong to think that words are bricks. Perhaps they were never meant for building rigid structures. Perhaps words are the retreating glaciers, the eroding seashores, the fading paper, and perhaps the smothering dust was the stuff of my craft all along. Words do not bring order to chaos. They bring chaos to order. Words quench the flame that burns until chaos can finally flow freely in lethal mu D5| /de$.