Someone once told me;
"Writing is a lonely experience"
It really is
No one sees you toiling away at night
Fighting the demon of anti life
as he tries to make you end it all
No one sees how much thought you put into one word
As you alight your tired mind trying to predict how this will impact your story
No one sees your many hours of work tearing away at research while fighting the demon of madness
No one sees your dreams and aspiration to be the best
And when they do you become a golden rag
Used to clean the fat cats dark mouth
No one sees your endless night trying to organise your ideas into fantastic world and when they do they link it to something unrelated
No one sees how you slowly lose yourself to the unrhythmic assonance associated with the unrelated
No one sees just what you're trying to portray as they have to interpret their own meaning
No one hears the click-clack of the keyboard that slowly hypnotize you into oblivion
And if you finally finish you hate it