Awakening again

I am re-awakening. A friend of mine reminded me that I don't care what X thinks. And she is so very right. Who is that X to define any parameters of my life? Who? WHO? Who?!?!???

So I am picking up my suitcase and on my way again. Because that is the way it is supposed to be. Moving, forward or backward, but moving.

Shedding skin.

One of my favorite writers is writing again and I feel energized because of it.

Why write--
The writers duty is to the cacoon, to the tide, to the worker-bee, to the farmer, to the girl-child, to the adolescent, to the housewife, to the student, to the 80 year old alone in a quiet house, to the patient, to the drug addict, to the refugee, to the one who couldn't flee, to the young soldier, to the mothers, to the fathers, to the dead, to the survivors, to the prisoner, to the man who puts the noose around the heads, to the one who fell asleep, to the one who is awake, to the writer, to the reader, to the word.