The Time Has Come To Write! - Page 2
Then there was a knock at the door. It was a giant out-sized monster. “I changed my mind,” it said. “I want my little Igor back.”
I once wrote a verse,
They say that writing is a lonely trade
But if so it’s a loneliness I crave
Company would cramp my style
As I travel the alleys of my mind
I cherish this time to be alone
Away from email fax and phone
Alone with the silence of ideas
And the shifting of my mental gears
Without it I’d easily go insane
So solo I go without complaint
Solo I have always gone, but no longer without complaint. Loneliness, it seems, has become the monster at my door. But how can you escape loneliness when you’re courting it? I created that monster, and I was not going to answer its knock. I’d spent a month on my butt, paralyzed, nonfunctional, questioning how I got this far without the first idea of how to be a person, much less having something to say the world would want to hear. All things come to those who wait. But what was I waiting for? I needed a sign. You know, from the universe.
Things started happening. I read something on the web. I met a man. He gave me a book. I joined a writer’s group. I signed up for a workshop. Whatever I’d been going through, I’d had to snap myself out of it by re-engaging with the human race. And then came the affirmation from the universe: The time has come to write.
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