why bother

I’ve given up many times. Yes, that’s right. So?

So-many telling me I have to-and I must.

And, why?

Why must I write. Why must I paint. Why must I …

Why can’t they answer better.

(it’s perilous, it’s futile, it’s boring, it’s a walk alone). Don’t they know.

Their musts made me bitter.

One day I imagined my words joined together like a kite tail, slipping up and around and swirling in the air.

Life loving itself!  Aha!

When I write or paint or express in any way-any thing. I am letting Life love itself. Letting Life marvel at itself.


This makes more sense to me.

This is a reason if there must be a reason.

No more why bother. No more why.

and No more bother.