Let them live

They say about your writing that "you have to kill your darlings."

That's what the critics would tell you. And this strange proverb seems to invite them into your head. I think the expression "cat got your tongue" finally makes sense to me. It's that hesitant way that Gutthi, my cat, has about everything. When I've picked her up and she has to think many moments before deciding that she really wants to be down on the ground. The always thoughtful and pensive way she has. That feeling of never quite knowing if you are saying the right thing.

What is the right thing to say?

Ever?

I have been so hesitant. Every word, every sentence goes through revisions. Words almost out of the mouth make their way back in into an in-breath. Statements turn into questions. Thoughts into doubts. Everything, all my words, all my thoughts, go back on themselves.

It's been this way for so long, and it's been so tiring. It's been so tiring answering all those imaginary bullies, and the real ones.

The truth is if I never let these words out, I will never find the beautiful ones, never have any darlings, and before I have the luxury of killing them darlings, I have to let these unformed, unthought words out into the world, to let them be ugly, unfinished, careless.

And simply let them be.