There is a real but we do not have access to it. Lacan.
Everything is slanty – bite sized, myopic, and lacking in the texture of context. There are very few places you can go to get deep and thoughtful – and verifiable – truthful information.
A lot of people would agree with that I suspect. The so called news is overwhelmingly slanty, designed to create impulsive opinions, over a widening divide.
It’s important then, if you are a writer, to be aware of where your world view comes from. Your dreams are not your own, they are placed there for you, so cleverly we believe what we dream is what we want – truly.
Everything is handed to us, we inherit so much, language, images, beliefs, from a very early age. Some people even believe we are born with this information – that it is an ancestral memory, that we do not arrive as a tabla rasa.
Whatever the truth of this opinion I think it is fair to say there comes a time when you must examine your personal poetics. You must try to unwind all the things wrapped around you, and examine each strand for its own veracity. You must scrutinise your own poetics. What is real and what is permitted as real? They are not by any means going to be the same.
In this way it becomes possible to be really honest, with yourself and other people. It helps you approach things with a clean and pristine point of view.
In that way you can write honestly, without the narcissistic desire to preach, or please people who relate to you. If you can find insight, you can approach what is true and what is false, in good faith. You can be proved wrong and still have contributed something worth engaging with.
Finding a forum wherein you can approach the tricky subject of what we should do about what we don’t know should not be undertaken lightly. But it should be undertaken in any way you see fit, if you have done your inner work, and then looked out again.
What is yours is yours. And it is worth sharing.