1. To write is to write against life itself.
2. To write is to write against the conditions in one's life that prevent the act of writing.
2.1 We always live in conditions that are not conducive to writing. For us to even begin writing, certain conditions must be met.
3. To desire writing is to desire the conditions in one's life that make writing possible.
3.1 The will to write is the will to change our lives, to wish for conditions within that will allow us to write in the first place.
4. There never is (and never was) a perfect moment to write: when one writes one is not doing something else. To recognize our constantly bound position--that something is always weighing us down at any given moment--is to recognize that there is no absolute difference between a moment that prevents writing and a moment that enables writing.
5. Writing seems a compellingly simple act. unlike, say, many other technologically complex arts, the act of putting pen to paper is a simple goal that our brains can grasp. We can easily grasp writing as a symbol that serves as a call to arms towards which we can change the conditions of our lives.
6. The writing life, therefore, is something more serious than we often take it to mean: rather deride the romanticized notion of the writer as one who has unlimited time to write, we should take our desire for this ideal as a call to change our own lives, to both realize the weight of our bonds and to realize that we can write with them on, because we will never throw them off completely.