i wish I weren't a writer. that's a blasphemous thing to say... and I might not feel that way yesterday or tomorrow, but it's true right now. i told a friend the other day and he echoed this earlier: writers write because they have to... because some force says: words are sacred. before you can even speak ..or make a conscious decision, you are either a writer or you aren't one. and words are your only reason and words are your biggest curse, because you prize them so dearly and the more you learn about them.. the more you realize how useless they are. you can never say precisely what you mean. and I'm not sure I want to say precisely what I mean, because then - that gets into a whole issue of definitions (and the ensuing implications of the finite) that I'm not in the mood for.