Thursday, May 17, 2012


I am as capable of fear as the next man. Snakes, enclosed spaces, the wrong end of a firearm, abandonment ... I am capable of being afraid. It's a long and well-nourished and sometimes quite sensible habit. I am the Vishnu of my life -- the preserver ... it is a habit I have learned (a little) not to disdain or fear.

When I write -- as at this moment -- I am really quite serious and intent. Anything goes. Nail it to the cross!

But when I finish writing, one of the most imposing fears that arises is this:

What if someone else believed it?

What if I did?

1 comment:

  1. I hate it when that happens , when im inspired to write the blues and make em' cry or a love song to no one at all and sombody thinks im really sad or really in love lol...I like to write thats about all that can be beleaved less I say otherwise , Sometimes with all the molly codleing you gotta do after you write something explaining that your not really sad , Well it just is not worth the truble to write anything at all , Anita