SATURDAY, 5 AUGUST 2000
The poem, like a note in a journal, is to me a reference point. It describes how I got where I am today; how it happened that I am what I am, at this particular moment of my life.
As long as I have a pen and a piece of paper I can give expression to who I am, at a certain time, in a particular context, and therefore know that I’m alive.
I am also aware that every day is a continuation of one life, and that this life includes everything that has ever been recorded – in notebooks, on scraps of paper, on the back of telephone bills, and things that happened but that remained unexpressed or unrecorded.
All the verses and stories about love, faith and hope, and about disappointments, doubt and despair, eventually lead to the most important of all knowledge: the knowledge of who I am.
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