There are times when you want to write. Write miserably, as if your life depended on it. Write or die. Write or perish. Writer’s Block, notwithstanding. It seems if you don’t write now, you are missing out on letting the world learn something for itself. It’s an urgent need that you can’t always address. What will I write on? Why do I have no ideas? What should I write? What if it just ends up like rubbish?
But then you calm yourself down. So what if it’s rubbish? Not the end of the world. Your job is to write, which you have. Now leave it. Go to your next piece. But don’t stop writing. For if the pen runs out of ink, aye, you’ll never be able to find yourself again.