What is a Start?
What is a start? Writing is like living in retrospect. Normally
you think a thought, and then you think another. With writing, you
think, then you stop while you note it down. Its like applying a
brake.
Begin again, they say — but what if the beginning is the question? This piece drifts through recursive introspection, where writing becomes both compass and confession. It’s a therapeutic sketch of paradoxes, poetic hesitations, and the quiet philosophy of not knowing, yet still choosing to speak.
Retrospect. So you can look back at some later time, and have
proof of a thought you interrupted. Some therapeutic value is
expected. Revisiting advertises patterns to learn from. We hope.
I prefer the big picture to the detail. I never complete the big
picture, so I miss the detail. What is a start?
Harry is a recovering satirist, part-time philosopher, and full-time tinkerer of tags. He once wrote a poem about recursion that never ended, and a JavaScript confession that crashed three browsers. His archive spans two decades of metaphysical mischief, theological punchlines, and nostalgic detours. He believes in the transformative power of satire, the elegance of well-placed meta tags, and the occasional necessity of poetic nonsense.
This piece is a quiet meditation on the nature of beginnings, thought, and the paradox of writing-as-interruption. It’s reflective, recursive, and gently unresolved — a philosophical sketch that circles its own question without trying to answer it. The final line lands like a whisper: “What is a start?” — not rhetorical, but genuinely wondering.