A columnist writes to prove he exists. We are witnesses of his life. We learn where he had dinner and what he ate, what new sports he is learning and whom he met in the street on his way to the grocery store.
We learn at a deeper level that he has friends, that he is a sports type and that he does his own shopping in the neighbourhood.
But most of all we learn that he thinks. That he has thoughts and ideas about life. Being able to express them makes him fully alive. We see him cogitare ergo esse loud and clear.
However, writing and living cannot be done simultaneously. To write is to suspend life for the time needed to put one’s experiences on paper. While recording the day’s vicissitudes the act of living is on hold.
So: to be fully alive takes up too much time to allow one to record the daily happenings. But to attest of one’s existence one needs written proof.
Writing is not living. Yet to write is to exist.
What a paradox!