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I hate writing.
I always have.
Those little pretentious people sitting in a cafe
writing their next big winning novel or poem
or whatever. It annoys me.
It's always annoyed me.
And I've always hated the idea
of finally submitting to that stereotype.
But
there's always something pushing me,
pushing me continue.
Whether it's the inspiration that I pull from reading
the poems of Bukowski
or Kerouac,
or some sort of mystical nonsense,
I keep going.