as someone who's never finished a book, what are you looking forward to as a writer? It's such a good question for writers who think they're writers who can't write anymore for having used up all their creativity all at once. What am I looking forward to as a writer who's striving to be the writer they thought or think they could eventually become? I want prose to be as important as every other literary genre, and it probably is, but I don't see it often. Everyone wants something either out of the world or very casual. I find some published writers boring because I take more time editing their work than reading it, and that probably means I'm such a self-centred dickhead, but I can't help it. Does that make me a writer? That's what I can't figure out. I love prose because it's candid and sincere and it makes you feel personally addressed. It's conversational. I love talking because I don't get to do it all the time – most of the time I'm either trying to explain how a communist movement could only make things worse eventually because misogyny would still be there manifesting in gluttonous, cigar-smoking capitalists hiding behind immortal, evil corporates or how I'm not supposed to get political when talking about cancer though the biopolitics of disease yields these individual disputes between a middle-class practical nurse and the metastatic cataclysm of the said new world order. So prose gives people like me, if they're out there, that freedom to talk and raise awareness of different things. Prose represents our non-linear perception of information. I love it when I'm reading and there are no so many commas. It feels like that's what I'm currently thinking. Your mind doesn't stop to punctuate your thoughts and make amendments. It goes totally this way: reductive terminology given by bland academics war against art human expression the root of life capitalistic principles against human growth the monetising of human soul prose is outrageously loud and brutal be riot talk talk! And things can be a lot more peaceful to other people, but that's how the mind works. It's a complicated network system that we don't fully understand yet, you think perfectly arranged sentences can fondle with the mind?... "Man, wow, there's so many things to do, so many things to write! How to even begin to get it all down and without modified restraints and all hung-up on like literary inhibitions and grammatical fears..." –On The Road, Jack Kerouac. I've always had this little problem, I think ever since I was in fifth grade when I first knew what it was, that I couldn't answer a question as concisely or as relatable to the topic as possible. I deviate from the point, almost severely. It's like that 0.001 millimetre that turns out to make all the heinous differences. As someone who's never finished a book, I want to get off that sentence and punch reality in the gut. I really want to take off with journaling because I love prose and I write things down all the time. I'd probably just complain on the behalf of anyone who hasn't complained enough in their lives about everything, and painfully moan about it. I wanna write. I hate it when I meet someone I've been longing to see and suddenly stop talking, or when I try to strike up that god-forbidden conversation and my tongue knots up like a wet thread. That's how it feels when I "create" a new document. I don't create it. I ask to see it. It stands before me in unwelcoming white, and I don't write. I just lament my existence. I don't want that to happen. I want to write. I want to write in the style of my train of thought so effortlessly it actually fits with the essence of prose. But not thinking doesn't count as a train of thought. It doesn't even count as a gust of wind twirling around an empty train station at 4am. It's nothing... That's why I deeply love prose – it's my only excuse to still be a writer.
