There are no writers here
This is not a metaphor.
It is neither modesty nor strategy nor negation.
Writing emerges, but no one does it.
Reading emerges, but no one receives it.
A writer's imagination depends entirely on a reader's imagination.
Without a reader, the writer cannot exist.
This text will not be sent.
It is not addressed to anyone.
Nothing is being expressed.
Words arise in the same way as thoughts –
without origin, without author, without intention.
Meaning is not conveyed by the text.
Meaning is projected onto it, or not.
If something seems to be understood,
that understanding does not originate here.
There is no transmission.
There is no point of view.
Nothing will be said to you,
because there is no one there to receive it.
And nothing is said from anywhere,
because there is no one there who could speak.
This is not a claim.
It is merely the absence of the conditions necessary for a claim.
What remains is text.
Nothing more.