How does one not write?
The most obvious answer is to just avoid writing.
Whenever the urge to write strikes, it can be suppressed in any number of ways: watch funny videos on YouTube, read a book, go rummage in the refrigerator for a snack. Or just sit there.
Not writing is quite easy. Natural, even.
But that’s not what I meant by the question “How does one not write?”
Imagine the question spoken in an incredulous tone. How does one not write?
Sometimes I wish I did not have the urge to write.
Sometimes I wish I could walk away from it and say blithely, “Adios, Sucker.”
Then I could take up something else. Woodworking. Gardening. Cooking. Astronomy.
But even as I am walking away, the words “Adios, Sucker” still echoing in the air around me, I know I am lying to myself.
I will be back.
And my writing will be right where I left it, with that sneering, supercilious look on its face as if to say, “I knew you’d come crawling back. You can’t not write.”
Oh, but oh how I wish sometimes I could!
Not write, that is.
But I cannot not write.
But neither can I write.