Why do I write?
Just as Michael Jackson considered his backup dancers to be extensions of his being, extensions of the man himself – not coming as individual beings but more an offering of their physicality towards being melted down to to become something else entirely – each individual being deconstructed just to be built back up to be molded to form a part of a new creative whole – just so my words are like tentacles – each word, each sentence, each thought coming and crawling in from different sources for my brain to mold and mash to become part of a new entity – a new creative whole.
I must write to live and I live to write.
