"I saw the image of you holding a drink... but you were
smiling. That's ironic, because I read your musings on passion. I've experienced passion. I have experienced tawdry passion that will both haunt and excite me long into my twilight. I have been driven mercilessly by the curse of passion that never lets me sleep for long. I have been soothed in fevered dream by the fleeting passion of the mere memory of her kiss.
Do you fancy
yourself one of us? Are you now a writer, Sir? Because I think I'd recognize the scent. I only ask because, although
writers do drink, we rarely smile when we do. Like ex-drunks, there is no such creature as an ex-writer. When the pain is too much to
bear, writers drink. When the pain is excruciating... we write."
Post ID Tag: 10197
Post ID Tag: 10197