I’ll need courage to do what I’m about to do: to speak. And to risk the enormous surprise at the poverty of what I say. As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I’ll have to add: that’s not it, that’s not it! But I can’t be afraid of looking ridiculous, I always preferred less to more out of fear of looking ridiculous: because there is also a shattering of modesty. I’m putting off having to speak. Out of fear?
And because I don’t have a word to say.
I don’t have a word to say. So why don’t I shut up? But if I don’t force out the words muteness will swallow me forever in waves. Word and form will be the board upon which I float upon billows of muteness.