Alexa Daskalakis

I Don’t Like Writing

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I’ve never liked writing.
That’s not a hook.
It’s the truth.

Everything I’ve ever written — to Shakespeare, The Immortals, or no one at all—
was typed into my phone.
Not out of ritual.
Not out of love.
Just because it had to be said.

I don’t write to express.
I write to preserve.
To document.
To hold a shape before memory distorts it.

That’s why the tone is spare.
Why I don’t play.
Why I don’t reach for metaphor, rhythm, or style.

It’s not for beauty.
It’s for record.

Language, to me, is legal.
A ledger.
A submission of evidence.
Not emotion — clarity.
Not literature — truth under oath.

It took me years to find a version of honesty
that wouldn’t wound someone just to sound good.
And now that I’ve found it,
I almost regret it.

This isn’t an artistic statement.
This isn’t a plea.
This is the one thing I hadn’t written down.

I don’t like writing.
I never did.
I’m just grateful it existed
when no one else did.

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Disclaimer:
These writings are not directed toward, inspired by, or intended to depict any specific person.
When I write of truth, I refer to human patterns — behaviors and emotions that repeat across time and circumstance.

When I use terms such as document, record, legal, ledger, submission of evidence, truth under oath, or plea, they are meant metaphorically and poetically, not literally.
They describe the discipline and precision with which I approach language, not any legal process, claim, or document.

These works are created solely as expressions of art and reflection.
They are universal, observable, and collective, not personal accusations.
Any resemblance to particular individuals or events is coincidental and unintentional.
These writings exist as reflections of shared experience, not records of private lives.