It’s a compulsion that must be indulged.
It’s my master, condemning me,
so that I keep going.
No matter what I do to avoid it,
I will eventually give in and obey.
I feed off of this obsession,
like a wild animal does its prey.
Once I’ve had my fill,
I shove it as far away from me, as possible—
until the urge presents itself again.
But it’s always there.
It never stops,
and if I don’t satisfy this impulse,
I’m afraid I will lose my ability forever,
I will never pick up a pen and paper again....
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