1/21/11-out of sight, out of mind. kind of.

The phrase is “out of sight, out of mind.” But you know those conversations when you discuss something like an addiction and then when you finish, all you can think about is the thing you gave up? Yes. This happened to me tonight. Except I’m not up and about to publicly confess some terrible drug use, I am addicted to writing. There comes a time in every writer when they become consumed, nay enslaved by one thought I have to write. Having just finished a conversation akin to this idea, the following section of the written word spewed forth from me. 

Suddenly an overwhelming feeling gripped me by the throat and jerked me out of reality: I had to write. Pen in hand I gasped for breath as I searched desperately for a medium for my art. Word by word and phrase by phrase my prose glid out of my aching soul.

Stuck.

The word. 

I want my word.

Nothing else will do.

Not that word.

Not that word either.

Where is my word?

I have to have it!

Posessive.

Mine.

Becoming frantic and irate.

ah yes!

          there it is.

relief warms me to my fingertips as I

smoothly direct the

remainder of my prose.

Smooth, but wary.

Conscious of the propensity

to lose my word again.

Yet I have no choice;

I have to write.  

Better.

Calm.

I’m sorry, what did you say?