I Want to Be a Writer
I am sitting on the floor, right now, this second. I'm sitting here wondering what the point is of any of it. Because now is the time to ask such questions. We never do when contented. But now on the floor, with a glass of merlot is the time.
How am I supposed to switch off my feelings?
How I am supposed to function like a person ought, to talk & walk & do as a person does?
How?
I want to write, right? I want to overcome & allow my feelings outside of myself, because to write is to spill thought & feeling.
So here I am on the floor with a glass of merlot & a shattered heart, writing, because all else is gone.