Writing...

Sometimes I wonder why I write when seven out of ten times, I hate it. It’s why I lose sleep and skip meals, it’s why my verbal communication makes absolutely no sense at all, it’s why my thinking is unorganized, it’s why my very existence is all over the place… I was not forced to be a writer. I was fated this inconvenience. I realized today that I write because I have no other choice. I didn't choose to dictate the words, they chose me. They haunt me, and will continue to do so unless I do something about it. The words put a gun to my head and say, “Get it all out, or else we'll get you.” So, I write because there is no other way. I write simply because I have to. I write to survive.

..Peter Fifield..