It’s more difficult than it looks putting word after word on a page. Words that make sense.
Words are free.
Just like the books you find now and then on an ugly metal shelf by the exit doors of the library.
You could be sleeping on a couch and cashing out your retirement fund twenty years too soon. You could be surrounded by bags of those free books, writing free words.
And at first you never stop asking if it makes sense.
But then, one day, when you’re reading your books, and writing your words, you start feeling free.
And maybe someday someone will pick your words right off of a drab gray shelf.
Because they’re free.