For me writing is cheaper mind therapy than seeing a shrink, and more expensive (brain cell-wise) than time spent mowing the yard. The sun shines, the weeds grow thick while cells languish, yet I'll still feel a more pressing need to gnash keys, combine words, spit out gut-thought-seeds. Sometimes I write well IMHO (that opine being consistent with some other less critical reviewers), other times I vomit word-stream so putrid that it only makes sense to cover your face from forehead to chin. My writing appeals mainly to deep thinkers with jumbled minds, broken homes, and bar room tans... or extremely discriminating criminally minded terminally ill nihilists. My fans are few but accomplished in their own small rights. I write in my own unique style of letter-word-sentence arrangement paying only partial attention to Crunk and White but giving full frontal to self-indulgent preference. If you don't like that... well, GFY. For example, I doubt Websters could appreciate my habit of making up spellings and meanings of old words, and defining new ones. Still, I like to think the reasons I have are sufficient. Sometimes... I produce great ideas meshed with poor execution, and some not-so-good filling of gaps like a dental version of Bondo, porcelain and LB Sambo. Yeah, somewhat akin to going to the Dentist to have a few teeth pulled, but then tripping on the pavement and busting your other teeth out on the stairwell. Ouch. But, sometimes... when Moon and Stars align and brain + experience give that unnatural clarity of rolling... to write that inner voice when it gels cohesively enough to paint the inside ceiling of the masterpiece... these are the moments I crave... I suspect it feels like, and IS like... a Stephon Curry cross-over dribble... half-backstep, THREE! All that... as the clock ticks to zero. Flow... Flow is why I write. Flow is... what it is. The great undiscovered lurks, awaiting his literary genius to be realized, fawned over, and finally to get his greatest reward. To be read. The other stuff I made up but sounds pseudo-impressive. All I ask is to be read, and hopefully a little honesty even if it hurts my sensitive soul that respects truth and love, but despises their nemisis'.
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