For the first time in my life, I am in the company of people who understand me, because we share the midnight disease. The drive to create and to write is hardwired into our psyches, our brains. If I could never write again, I think I could not continue living. It is who I am. I am seeing the next phase of my life spread out before me as an allegorical buffet, in part that I am no longer an outsider watching people dance through a plate glass window. I have joined the party.
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