"Why do I write? I think I do it mainly to channel the wildly whirling thoughts which are always in my head, the internal brainstorming that goes on and on and on all the time"
Currently, if we were sitting together, you'd talk and the words would float by and I would struggle to make sense of them. I have, what I like to call, a "mental concussion". Too many bad things have happenned in too short of time and I'm sitting here reeling. Cooped up. Dazed.
My fortress of humour has collapsed upon itself so I'm seeking refuge in a virtual world, rather than being surrounded by dark imaginings. I can't stay here forever, and I won't, but for the time being, it's a comfortable place.
Writing is easy for me. It's actually easier than talking. And I can indulge myself with the company of creative camaradarie. This is something that's always been part of my life. I never realized that the other people who wrote here could become my "friends".
Not a bad thing.