No write, no life. It’s so damn simple. Writing to me is like breathing or at least exercise. When I don’t do it, my health goes south, and that’s precisely what my health is doing right now.
When I write the vision is so clear, ideas populate and I simply get better at it. My wit comes out. My voice comes out. My inner wisdom steps out from the shadows.
When I don’t write it’s the opposite: depression, emptiness, hopelessness. No future, no present, no attention, no creation. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May I rest in piece.
Write or die.