I Don’t Know Why

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My best writing tends to be about myself or about my interactions with those who were or are around me. I don’t like that. Being so focused on introspection of myself means I’m often focused on myself. Not others, but myself.  The mere thought makes me shiver in disgust. And yes, I really mean that. I need characters to come to life with the glide of my pen again. I need that if I want to avoid beating myself up over how much of an arrogant prick I’ve become (even though I’m probably am not an arrogant prick).

If my mind was still zipping around, it would not have had the time to think  in depth about this matter. I guess my own brand of invisible speed is wearing off.


One thought on “I Don’t Know Why

    LaVagabonde said:
    September 25, 2012 at 6:19 am

    I know what you mean. But try to look at it this way – maybe you have a story to share that can help others in some way. People often identify more with true stories than with fiction.

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