Forward and Back

Stories, why do they come about? The need to share with the world experiences that you feel will help, entertain, embellish, or inform. Sometimes, you make up stories just to clear your own head, or to relive glory moments. When I am well, and compose I feel little need to force myself on the paper, bleed on it, I have no idea why that is. I guess the conclusion is if I am to be a good writer, I should try to look for misery, and live it. It’s a tough trade off, very tough.

I guess the silence didn’t last long; it only took a week before the worry showed up again. It’s cyclic you see, the confirmation of what is must be renewed in order to keep insanity at bay. I wish I didn’t give birth to that situation. Still, how was I not to, because just like an enfant it’s full of potential. What was said before is what stands now, until it is uprooted. Work is calling again, stupid work.