A question I ask myself a few days, perhaps because dealing with the diary of Etty.
Blog = Diary? I do not think this is just the same thing, I would say that is the recipient of our words to make a difference.
who had a diary (and who has not had at least once in life) has always relied on the secrecy of the contents, in order to give a thought to put into words otherwise incommunicable, not that outrageous, mind you, at least not forever, but because it is deeply intimate, confidential, the disclosure of which is given to ourselves and only to us.
diaries brings about that strange kind of third dimension where thoughts become words, yes it is true, but they remain mute, silent, no words spoken. And the word is not spoken is not yet a fact, it stays there, there with all the potential of its feasibility ... but it is still a fact! This strange suspension helps us, making us 'aware' and making 'take time' on the fate of those words not spoken.
Sometimes I seemed to find this size in the blog, rarely, actually. Just when I thought the 'spoken words' would be read, and therefore act by someone who was not me.
I think the blog is more from the diary, a journal perhaps: the leaf dies . An extraordinary form of communication that does not preclude the exercise, our, for introspection, but nothing more shares with that unique, secretum , full of erasures and corrections, where life (the heart, mind) speaks, and says questions really.
Blog = Diary? I do not think this is just the same thing, I would say that is the recipient of our words to make a difference.
who had a diary (and who has not had at least once in life) has always relied on the secrecy of the contents, in order to give a thought to put into words otherwise incommunicable, not that outrageous, mind you, at least not forever, but because it is deeply intimate, confidential, the disclosure of which is given to ourselves and only to us.
diaries brings about that strange kind of third dimension where thoughts become words, yes it is true, but they remain mute, silent, no words spoken. And the word is not spoken is not yet a fact, it stays there, there with all the potential of its feasibility ... but it is still a fact! This strange suspension helps us, making us 'aware' and making 'take time' on the fate of those words not spoken.
Sometimes I seemed to find this size in the blog, rarely, actually. Just when I thought the 'spoken words' would be read, and therefore act by someone who was not me.
I think the blog is more from the diary, a journal perhaps: the leaf dies . An extraordinary form of communication that does not preclude the exercise, our, for introspection, but nothing more shares with that unique, secretum , full of erasures and corrections, where life (the heart, mind) speaks, and says questions really.
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