I have to say – writing is not something I have a passion for, nor do I do it for fun. I cannot avoid the need to write. I try to hide from it, but the pen and paper seem to cry out with a loud, silent voice, “you’re hiding.”
Yes, I’m hiding because I don’t want to go there. Why open a nicely compartmentalized issue? The issue is on top of another issue that I didn’t have the energy to deal with yesterday. “You know how this goes, Charity; those neatly suppressed issues start to stink after a while,” they say. Right, I’m not too fond of it when my heart stinks. And so, I eventually give in… then there go the issues of my heart flowing into the safe spaces on the page.
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