Tonight I write not of Aristotle, or of Whitman, or of even my true love. Tonight I write not of wedding plans, or family tensions, or lack of creativity. Tonight I write because it is what I do. I write without purpose, or intention, or direction, or agenda. I simply write. I write not of song birds, or love stories, or philosophy, or religion. I write not of real love, or real events, or reality itself. I write not of fiction, or fantasy, or fairytales. I write not of freedom, for it is something a writer never truly tastes. Tonight I write because it is the only thing I need never explain. I write.