A Short Dialectic: On Writing

What do you do when you cannot sleep? When it is too dark out to run, but your mind is buzzing with thoughts that will not be told “no more tonight.”

The answer to that question, and so many others I have this year seems to be: write.  I write because my armor is crumbling away; because I finally mean what I say.  I write because I am no longer afraid of terrible memories, and I write because I no longer want to go back to the days of youth when I was served life on a silver platter.

When running feels like crying, like it did this morning, it is time to write.  So I grit my teeth (for the time I use cliches I hate, hoping one of my beloved editing sessions will lead me to a better description) and let my words loose, hoping they tie a true knot (not a tangle) as they leave my fingers.

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My thoughts...

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