In a casual conversation with a
friend, I broached the topic of creative writing- about how well people can
write, how much people can go on writing, why people write when they are most
affected, so on and so forth. People write when they need to vent, we said, and
then it struck me- I hadn’t written in a bloody long time. This could be because
of only two reasons (being busy hardly counts): (a) no time to feel, (b) no
time to vent. I can’t decide which of the two is more dangerous, but yeah,
they’re here. If you say I should choose the better of the two evils, I need
the time to; that’s too precious to afford.
So what if I don’t say “I miss you”
or sigh “Ah, those were the days” anymore? So what if I can’t post on my blog? I’m
still alive. Sorry, still breathing.
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