Thursday, October 11

Lost in translation

I love to write, and yet I forgot about it. I do not even know what language to write in anymore, stuck between home and a broader understanding less grammatically correct. I am very confused, and not just about writing, about a lot of things. Yet simple... What is the word for it? Translating the verb "despoletar", so seldom used in Portuguese, is a difficult task. A visit to Linguee solves it quicker than I thought, the word I am looking for is precisely trigger. A simple trigger, such as a movie or a short story, has such an incredibly long reach. Watching someone cooking for a passion made me think about my passions, other people valuing their husbands make me value my love, that last powerful sentence ("Big as he was and important as he was, he still knew that a boy should always listen to his mother") made me think about my mother and my never completely fulfilled desire of telling her how much she means to me.

Not that I think that I have the talent to do it, far from it. One of these days, as I was rumbling about my ghosts and general theories to him, I used an old expression, stolen from someone else. As a big part of me is, undoubtedly and for as much as dread it sometimes. I do not regret it or deny, it is just... It is hard to grow up following a shadow that will, inevitably, disappoint you.

But none of that matters. The expression I used was "I am a reader, not a writer". Being such a made-up notion, I had to explain it to him, naturally, past his disbelief (disbelief, such a beautiful word - suspension of disbelief, a beautiful, wise concept). When you've read a lot, and read about reading, you've felt that amazement only provoked by true masterpieces, and you know how to differentiate it from mere average writing skills. You reread yourself and you know it's just not as good as you wanted it to be, and it is not because you are overly humble or critical, it just isn't what you are looking for - if you don't enjoy reading yourself, who will? And I truly still believe it. Beginning a sentence is a nightmare, and yet... How I wish it was different.

But do I really? I do not know. I know very little, nowadays.

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