I usually write 3,500 words a day for publication, six days a week.  That daily effort averages out to a million words a year.  Those writing numbers are numbing and they don’t include the daily grind of writing emails or crafting shopping lists or the rare, luxuriant, instance of love letter making. 

Sometimes I wonder if all that effort writing books and articles and scripts and other junque will be worth it in the end when I’m finished — but every time an empty moment arises where I could goof off or something unproductive, I am always reeled back to my glowing screen and battered keyboard — so there is some energy somewhere that compels me to arrange words for the viewing of others.

When we consider the brittle station of the human condition and how cheap life has become, I realize how lucky I am to be able to express thoughts and arguments for public consideration. 

Everyone clings to their untold stories of heartbreak and success and it has been my lifelong work to find ways for those truths to be shared.

I try to meet that mandate by offering all my avenues of publication to others — and when others find success in the simplicity of what I know and try to share — I know we’re headed up the right path as a community of minds and as a society of higher, moral, yearnings.

To write is to be set free from a mortal world; and that immortal gift
is meant to be read and rewritten and consumed by future generations who
may lose sight of the higher target of human loving wrapped in
unconscious despair.


  1. I agree David. At the end of the day, my regular job alomost drains me out but I come back here because somehow it refuels me…Thank you for providing the opportunity!

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