It’s been hard for me to not write, and that’s the only process I can speak to I guess, it’s so compulsive and I need to do it all the time that sometimes I make myself not do it so I can actually tend to my life.
I think after we ingest some of the cruelty of the world, it takes years off of our lives, but it also gives us wisdom and a little grace, hopefully a sense of compassion.
The same way you can hear a song in your head even if there isn’t a radio playing; the same way you can hear those blackbirds flying when they’re not in the sky
