I hate writing.
I hate writing because it never seems complete, a process that doesn't stop when you put the pen down.
I hate writing because it occupies my mind, my thoughts, my world whenever I write even a paragraph.
I hate writing for the words that swim in my head, elusive, backing away, vague.
I hate writing because every word, every sentence, very paragraph has me obsessed.
I hate writing because I know that nothing matches it. I hate writing because I hate this feeling, this "knowing".
I hate writing for the unfinished thoughts, the broken sentences, the words that never seem quite perfect when I create them.
I hate writing for the mood swings it inevitably brings with it - the excitement, the disgust, the despair, the apprehension, the conflict.
I hate writing for the dark, vast ocean of things you can do with it, and for the choice you must make to choose a single way.
I hate writing for the power it single-handedly wields over the mind.
I hate it.
Written in a rare dark mood. I think I'm getting old.