I’ve given up many times. Yes, that’s right. So?
So-many telling me I have to-and I must.
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.