(Inspired by my students. Inspired by the writers who don’t even know they are writers, until they write.)
I live for that line. The combination of words that, when placed together, shake and stir minds. Knowing words are already there, waiting and breathing. Bones breaking and forming until. Until I pluck them from books or mouths and create a combination that unlocks everything.
I live for the moment all my veins and twists make sense to me. The moment my body speaks back in a dialect I can finally understand.
I live for my father, who never closed his door to me, even when I was at my worst.
I live for the book I haven’t read yet.
I live for the books I haven’t written yet.
I live for the moments I have yet to experience. And the art I’ve yet to see. And the border crossings I’ve yet to cross.
I live for my passport, which one day I will fill up.
I live to free the parts of me I have put on hold. To give them time and space to speak up. To give my body and mind a chance to re-introduce itself.
Yeah. I live for that.