Why do I write?

What inspires me to write? Is it for myself, for posterity, or notoriety? I write for many reasons, most of which are pleasurable. There is something cathartic and relieving about getting thoughts outside of the jumbled and troubled mind, where they swirl in a nauseating incompleteness like spaghetti. Incomplete and unformed except as sprites running…


Original Publish Date: 7.1.1 My face droops with The solemn determination to make it Through the day Resigned and hardened To the diatribes of conscience Like the patter of weekend rain “You should not have stayed up late – again.” I have work to do. Work to do. Zzz.