Life is just one big game of bobbing for apples.
If I am asked by the occasional person of why I stopped writing, either I say that what I wrote wasn't any good, perhaps it was even terrible, or that it has the potential for perfection and this finally silenced me. Or sometimes I say I felt trapped in what I tried to write- which is like saying one feels trapped in the universe, or trapped by the inevitability of death, but why I truly stopped writing is not any of these, not nearly, not exactly. The truth is that if I could explain why I stopped writing then I may be able to write again.
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