The life that causes writing cannot be brought on paper. The life of the author himself is going on without knowing the author himself. Regardless of intellectual occupations and busts, in the deep, dark pits where the ghostly memories fight for us, they disappear each other, and in the end, how many of them remain in our eyes, but they encounter the same disregard.
The essence of writing is a reflection of life itself, which is often elusive and complex. The act of creating words on paper cannot fully capture the vibrant experiences and thoughts of the author, as their own life unfolds unconsciously. Authors may engage in intellectual pursuits and crafted personas, yet the deeper elements of their existence often clash with one another, revealing an inner struggle that is difficult to articulate.
This struggle highlights the notion that many memories emerge and fade, leaving only a fragmentary residue in the author's mind. Such fleeting recollections can be ignored or overlooked, even as they shape the narrative. Through this lens, the intersection of memory, perception, and the act of writing raises profound questions about identity and the authenticity of the author's voice in their work.
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All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!
