The Blood & The Bones

I write because it feels good but also because I have to. It’s like cutting… bloodletting but without the actual violence and subsequent mess.

And I never actually care if people like it. I mean, I hope that it helps people. It certainly does make a difference when it resonates with others. That is a welcome byproduct but not a necessity to make my writing mean something.

I don’t do it for attention or to attract love, fame, lust, respect or any of the notches in between as I seem to see a lot in the community. A feeling that makes me a bit uncomfortable.

And, to be honest, I don’t even share most of what I write because it’s not meant to be seen.

Perhaps that’s why people like it. Because it’s here. It’s not forced. I don’t try too hard. I don’t use my writing as a catalyst for anything more than what it is. I just cut the vein, I let it flow. I bandage it back up and I move on until the urge or need arises again. And sometimes I give it to the world and sometimes I don’t. And whether it is loved or not, matters not to me. Because always, ALWAYS, it is for me more than anyone else. I don’t need validation. I don’t anything but the release.

Perhaps people see that it is just that simple and complicated at the same time without it being too difficult to understand. Perhaps that’s why it echos in others. Because it’s real and an authentic reflection.

I don’t know. I don’t even know the point I’m trying to make except that it is a lifeline for me but it’s mine. It’s mine and I only give it to the world because I want to, not because I have to or because I need to. As much as I appreciate that it’s well received, the point is that it’s FOR ME. And I hope others don’t lose sight of why they write..why they started and what it meant to them before it became a way to get attention. When you lose that, you might as well just stop writing.

LL