On Not Writing

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.