Otherwise, my thoughts would start charging rent for squatting in my head. This way—I throw them here and let them earn their keep. I write because everyday life produces more absurdities than the average human brain’s RAM can handle. Instead of storing them inside, I turn them into words and set them free. I write because otherwise my friends would have to endure my digressions over coffee. And they’re already barely hanging on after the fifth anecdote about a misplaced comma in a text message. A blog doesn’t run away, roll its eyes, or glance at the clock. I also write a bit for sport: the column is my gym, irony my dumbbells. Some people do cardio, I stretch metaphors.
But most of all, I write because—and here comes a cliché at your own risk—I enjoy it. I enjoy testing whether an ordinary sentence can be twisted into something more than just a sentence. Because the world is already serious enough. Someone has to hand it a funhouse mirror.
To przestrzeń, w której spotykają się słowa, emocje i codzienność
