Why am I here
The brick walls swallow my voice as they reach toward the heavens
Why am I here? I ask myself one more time.
To learn to be around writers like me. Well, not like me but also writing.
But we write alone
So alone that we pay money to be around people who understand the solitude writing requires.
We hash out ideas
We walk and ask ourselves how we got here and possibly where are we going with this
The host reminds us that others who’ve attended got published, he flashes their books and moves on.
Maybe that’s why I’m there
To try and figure out what to do next.