Solitude
Why is it that I cannot write unless I am alone?
Why must the door be closed?
Is it because of a fear that the work will be seen too early.?
Can I not trust anyone to be critical?
Or worse, can I not accept compliments?
Is it a selfish need to be first to see the completed form?
Maybe, someone else’s presence will disturb the muse, the inspiration?
Or maybe they’d be a distraction, taking attention away from the work?
Or perhaps, outside noise will overcome the voices in my head.
But, why then, can I listen to music as I write?
Is it that I’m so insecure that I don’t want anyone to see the process?
Is it that the last thing I want to hear is that I’m not doing it right?
Maybe it’s that I’m more comfortable when it’s me and the muse.
I know that it has happened, where an interruption has caused me
to lose the entire concept of what I was writing. Poof! Gone forever.
Then there’s the dream: The Perfect Poem.
And what if an interruption caused that to be lost?
So, for now, I’ll just hide away in the Office / Fortress and try to keep
the interlopers at bay. Hmmm....maybe a drawbridge?