Coincidence of finding the correct

I recall in this book my long journey with the letter and the word, with the text and the sentence, with the dot and the comma... I remember those years when I held the pen not to write, but to erase what others write, and I erase myself along with it, to allow others to write! I am writing this book about the text in the most delicate moments, and the most mysterious, about the stage in which the text is tested to be fit to live... about the text when the language is assured that it is a legitimate child of it. I am writing this book about the text, not by the hand of its author, nor by the hand of its reader... about the text when it hangs between the sea and the shore, when it dries its clothes away from eyes. I am writing this book about the text between the hands of a linguistic editor, who gives it permission to pass, and always waits for it, but it never returns...