Insatiable

I live my life in a constant state of tension.

I feel it from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. And on those rare occasions when I dream, it follows me there too.

It's this voice, sometimes whispering, sometimes shouting: "WRITE."

I spent years ignoring it or placating it with excuses. "I can't write now," I'd say in a whiny voice. "I need to relax. I had a long day. My head's not in it. I need to be inspired."

All bullshit excuses. 

Now though I'm coming to realize something disturbing. 

The more I write, the louder the voice gets.

The more I produce, the greater the tension.

I thought for sure that starting up the blog again would satisfy the voice but I'll be damned if it isn't getting more demanding.

That little voice, it's insatiable.

Every little scrap of spare-time I get, I'm looking around like a junkie for my next fix.

Coffee break? Got my laptop with me?

Time to pound out a couple paragraphs.

Wife's busy? Kids are playing?

I'll just edit this little bit here. Won't take me long! I swear.

If I'm not getting my fix I'm itching to do so. I'm composing in my head. I'm trying out new lines. I'm thinking how I can organize the chapters, how I can convey the message.

If you see me looking off into the distance, totally absorbed in my own thoughts, now you know what  I'm doing.