PROSE – REFLECTION / INTROSPECTION
I forgot something important along the way. It is not about the words but the process of writing. We all remember the day when we decided this wicked craft we serve was something more than a hobby. They would catch something more than the scribbled in those ratty notebooks we were dead without. Because something magical was going to happen, you had to be ready for it. It always seems to happen when you don’t have a fucking pen or something to write on. Then, left with only our memories? Lord, this won’t do. Everyone, but seldom admit, memories change once they enter the memory bank. Snipped and tagged as they traveled the assembly line before being shoveled into the appropriate bin on the shelf.
One of the essential things we forget along the way, I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I must acknowledge my imperfections; the only reminder of my humanity is the people who are with us through thick and thin. No matter the lack of words produced or the ridiculous amount of self-loathing we put them through. They stay. Their devotion is beyond my comprehension, but I’m grateful. It’s like hiring someone part-time, two days a week, every other weekend, and they show up daily. At first, you don’t have the heart to tell them to stop, but then it happens you look for them. You count on them. In that moment, they cease to be invisible. They become everything
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