A Safe Distance

After writing for so many years, after devoting so many pages to pixel and print, it’s only right to ask myself what, or how much, I might be keeping hidden — not from those who are kind enough to read them, but from the one sitting here, tapping away at his keyboard. It’s not simply a matter of confession. Even if I were to divulge the most private and personal details, I could still in a manner be keeping myself a safe distance from them. The very words themselves, however poorly or well chosen, could be my fortress and my armor. That said, I have always tried to be honest, and, to this day, I ask myself before publishing if what I have written is true, at least to the limit of my seeing. Thousands of answers to the affirmative seems both damning and laughable. For instance, I could be harboring any number of beliefs, superstitions, and fears without knowing, and which could come tumbling forth without a moment’s notice, triggered by something as simple as a scent or a sound. Or I could suddenly find myself on the vast, silent sea of consciousness, bound naked to the mast, the breeze of awareness tickling my curls. Whatever it is, wherever I am, if it truly is the truth I’m interested in, there is no turning back.

June 8, 2021

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