Psychosomatic psychosis

There’s something to be said for neurosis.  Well, there probably is.  I think I’ve discovered the way to get the most tedious of tasks done here at home: make time to do some writing.  Once I have the time and opportunity to sit and write… I find that energy to do the dishes, clean the tub, arrange the boxes in the closet… etc.  If none of these things need doing, then my body simply becomes so fatigued I have to lay down. 

How does someone get a fear of the keyboard?  Where does it come from?  Perhaps I’ve associated writing with “The Noise,” a project from my past that I associate with negative feelings now.  All of my writing endeavors, for years, were devoted to this publication.

So am I so simplistic a creature that I would disassociate myself from writing for such a silly reason?  Does writing only emerge from me in return for a financial reward?

I feel, even now as I type this, that my author voice is stunted and I dislike the prose I’m laying down here.

But with it all laid bare above, it’s very silly to continue being inhibited for these reasons.  I read them and know they’re silly.  Expression is essential, dishonest if prompted by the potential of money alone.  The cacophony of voices on the internet might not be begging for another contribution… but if I were meant to be silent, my fingers would be up my nose and not tapping at the keyboard.