keep writing

by walterdoege

after some period of time…what is time?…I keep writing here…what is place?…once more, the hardest part is the first words, the first phrases…once more I realize that there are no perfect words and phrases…literature is art expression…I guess I take that time from the last post thinking a bit more than is needed…thinking much is an obstacle to fiction writing…I also must to deal with other personal issues…but writing is strong enough inside me to stop…and i do also take some thinking about stop writing…however, literature is not a matter of thinking…some thinking, tiny thinking is enough…I noticed also the search for the perfect phrases, another mistake…art is human expression, and in this way art is imperfection…I also must face bad news…and feel me saddened…I also notice that writing is a vocation, not exactly a choice…I also feel me tired, and after some rest I noticed my concerns as a writer…I take the time also to read and re reading nemesis, the recent book of Philip Roth…and I sensed some affinities…why shall I keep writing?…but the fact is that I like writing…some times, I need writing…I write for share love and joy, in despite of all…and I write to stand near you, reader…if I am a writer, I have some readers, some peoples that read my writers trials…writing and reading are two halves of a lovely endeavor…I read the world in so many ways!…I listen peoples…I read books, magazines and graffitti…I listen birds…I listen winds…I listen storms…I listen melodies…I listen sounds…I listen songs…I listen the words…each word is inhabited by sounds and song…each word is a human mark…each word is a human effort to create the world…that readingscope, some fine listening and sensing the human being and the world…reading and writing are almost the same one…reading the yesterday storm, the sounds of thunders and winds…the temperature falling…the summer shuffle…shuffling summer, working upon summer…summer shuffle…my heart is shuffle…ever trustful…ever joyful…ever lovely…roll on, summer, another season is coming…roll on, summer…each season present a gift…my gift is enjoy summer…as I enjoy each instant at any season…somehow a day is inhabited by the four seasons…at summertime, the blossom heat days…at nights, some autumn memories and wish…roll on summer, leave me within…I live the four seasons…the seasons shuffling  my daily living…each season has a gift…the joyous troupe keep going all through the years…all through the life…I keep writing because I want to keep writing…I want to keep talking with you