An original madness

You want to be a writer,

You wake up every morning, torn, unsure, in agony.

You believe the morning is your favorite part of the day.

You fool,

You spend all morning waiting for noon,

Noon is when you feel full,

having written.

Writing resembles life. You believe living matters. What you want is having lived. Your best work is mostly behind you. Your best life most certainly is. Your here is the past, your now is the future. You invent words, worlds.

You create an original madness,

You are God.

The joke is on you,

You are an atheist.

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