Another sign.

"Why does one write?"

I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live.

I had to create a world of my own, like climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and re-create myself when destroyed by living.

...We also write to heighten our own awareness of life, we write to lure and enchant and console others, we write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth, we write to expand our world, when we feel strangled, constricted, lonely. We write as the birds sing. As the primitive dance their rituals. If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write. Because our culture has no use for any of that. When I don't write, I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in prison. I feel I lose my fire, my color. It should be a necessity as the sea needs to heave, I call it breathing. 

--Anais

This is perfection. I just read this. It spoke to me. I love it when I read something that I connect with so intensely. It makes me feel less alone. I am not surrounded by writers. It is hard for me to find time to sit down and do it. My fear is becoming old. I am getting angry about it all. I want to get it done. I want to create. I want to show my girls that I am more than just at home with them. That I have my own thoughts and feelings...and that they can create something. I cry a lot. I am an emotional person. I'd love to show Zoe that there is a reason why I am the way I am. I feel and it is so intense. I FEEL the world. I feel moments. May Sarton also writes about how coming into contact with another person can feel like a crash...just crashing into their words and their feelings...it isn't easy. 

If it isn't writing...it's something for you, right. Fuck Fear. Get angry at it. We could be gone tomorrow and it would be all for not. No, that can't happen.