Right. Words. Must write words. Must write daily.
I painted once. I did it while stoned or drunk or whatever. Mainly while I lived in Bethesda. When I was drinking and smoking regularly.
But I painted this one piece. It was just streaks of colors. Carelessly lathered onto a canvass. With big black words over top.
But they said: Did you write today?
And this painting has hung on one of the walls that have made up my bedrooms for the past few years. Hanging there. Asking me. Daily. Questioning.
Did you write today?
Now it rests in a black plastic carrying bag in the corner of a basement as my place of residency teeters on the edge of a cliff.
This head ache is destroying me. It is definitely destroying me.