Perhaps what makes writers so lonely is the endless wave of thoughts spinning tirelessly in their minds. It’s no secret falling in love with someone who possesses a creative mind has challenges. Like the curiosity of a cat, the imagination of a writer knows no limits.
From time to time these witty banter types attract the occasional friend or even romantic interest. It’s a tale as old as time itself, which, of course, makes it’s ending all too predictable. Like a stab in the back or an unexpected slap to the face; so is the crash and burn of the writer’s heart.
Autumn’s beauty quickly fades to a lifeless sea of white decorated with the skeletons of all that once was. Mystery often overshadows anything resembling closure; there are no answers. Like sand slipping between the fingers of a memory fading into oblivion; so are the unsolved puzzles of a writer’s romantic history.
Loneliness is the writer. Drawing inspiration from the wrenching inside is what provides comfort to so many other suffering souls. Human beings want to connect emotionally with others, even just the thoughts of others can be something to cling to when you don’t feel anything else. Sometimes, the art of describing these roller coaster emotions is exactly what the doctor ordered, while other times it’s an enabler of the worst kind. Like the calm before the storm, so is the fuel of a writer’s inspiration.
That being said… it comes from Hell.
Welcome to Hell
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