I Am Not a Writer

As a writer, I cannot call myself a writer, an author or any such label of professional word assembly and production. Once the label and definition is in place, experience declines, life becomes a mission to find interesting subjects for the means of inspiration a parenthetical/false inspiration worthy of air quotes (the previous statement would be more concise and academic if I had just used actual quotes and parenthesis instead of the rhetoric). The fault in this means of inspiring writing through experience comes from the approach; I’m lying from the beginning paragraph because I’m not experiencing a damn thing. I’m concocting a story and performing research, I have a goal before the task and this goal bastardizing and mutilating the life, my life, into analysis of the idea of living. So as a writer, I can’t become a writer if I would like to remain a writer, because as soon as the transformation occurs I’m no longer writing a story, I’m preparing a narrative research paper or worse creating a criticism.

You see, I’ve already written the story, before I lived it. My internal narrative exists and I’m merely filling its holes. So when the written story begins it’s merely an imitation, a forgery, of a prior piece that was written in a realm of conjecture, bias, and analytical hell. That writing, the writer’s writing is at its root a farce based on a lie that is the result of a personal melodrama. My life is prostituted and presented as a used up shell of something that never was, what I present is merely a carcass of abused opportunity.

From a purely logical stand point the practice of selling and marketing a used hooker life is both counterproductive and difficult. I am lazy and chemically disassociated from the world an...

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...hese living people possess isn’t their story. They didn’t create the stories. They didn’t create anything. What happened were actions based on desires produced by need and instinct. It’s not creation its just occurrence, and has more in common with reflex than reflect.

This nature of living life as it happens is what murders the past and future. Any planning is present planning formulated from reaction, and any look backwards is a reaction to present folly. Everything that makes the non-writer is based on a utilitarian view of what is needed to have a now. As a writer, who refuses to be a writer, while being a writer, I am obliged to think and observe. I am forced to process and create. In a Faustian way, I have sold my present because it will always be used in retrospect, and it will only exist as something that can be future and by that definition is past.