“How can you do this? Constantly tapping those keys and staring into that big bright eye to the other world, how can you do it?”
I do this because I have to. As many have said before, I quote this: “Writing chose me, I did not choose writing.”
I did not wake suddenly from a strange dream and realize what I was meant to be, to breathe and eat and sleep the word.
Writing is impatient; It rose up from the depths unknown and pulled me down into its lair. There it shoved a pen into my hand and told me to write…WRITE…write or die, it said.
And so it is.. I do this because I have to and because I could not sleep if I chose to end it. If I said to the pen: “Go away and let me be”, I would be kidding myself.
If I said to the huge bright eye which stares out into my own dark pupils, ” Please, stop this torture”, then I would simply cease to be.
It doesn’t stop, it never stops and even when I close my eyes, I move my fingers to the rhythm of the tap tap tapping….like Poe’s thump thumping of the Telltale heart….it will be heard and it cannot stop.
You see, I don’t really know why I do this and I don’t really care. I just know that the moment I stop…
But that shall never happen.