I write.
I do not write things that make me sad.
No. I am sad, and from that sadness, I write. I write to cope, and I write to hope.
Neither of which I do very well at all.
Yes. I have no reason to be sad, and no excuses, either. But I am. This is how I am. This is what I am. This is what I write.
I am an unreasonable man, and the world ... well, the world doesn't like unreasonable men, and it doesn't change just because a wish is begging it to.
So I write.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
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