When I Write

When I write my consciousness expands. 

When I write, my fears dissipate. I am transported to another world, a world where I am the Creator and I am an instrument of Creation.

When I write my concerns are addressed. I am no longer chasing an elusive dream, but I am instead living it.

When I write, possibilities unfold. I become possibility. I become a form with infinite options, options unbound and yet easy to grasp. 

When I write I am filled with excitement, wonder, and adventure.

When I write I am becoming. I am bursting forth. I am alive. I am at the edge of creation and riding into existence that which previously did not exist.

When I write I wish not to stop. I wish it forever. Please let me stay here. Let me go on. Let me be. Be.

To stop means to forfeit the thrill. To risk the vanquishing of the Spirit. 

And yet, it is only a risk and not a certainty. For to write is but an attempt once again to reach the event horizon, beyond which there is no return.  And to stop is not an end, but a transmutation into another form to simply carry on. And live. Live fully.


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