Writing is a sweet, sweet curse.

Writing is a sweet, sweet curse. 
WRITING IS A SWEET, sweet curse. 
If there is a day I am unable to jot something--from the Song of Songs-like texture of language to something mundane and banal, I am not happy. 
Not at all.
It is enough that I am able to write something on my FB wall, aside from that one hope that every sweetly-cursed writer has: that he is writing other things on the side. 
But when you are a lowly classroom teacher, such a dream of becoming a writer ends up in reading other people's writing/s, your students' better-written essays included. 
I think of the opening of the Spring Term, and I think of classes to teach, and I think of more essays to read, and I think of more writing days to be waylaid, because, well, yes, one has to teach. 
Sweetly-cursed writers should not do anything but write. 
Many of those successful writers--the big name ones--in the Philippines married into rich families (that, my dear friends, is the secret in da Filipins: you are a cursed writer, you have to marry into a rich family!) and therefore, they did not have to run after money to put food on the table. 
In the US, either you write or you bust. 
I have seen so many writers--sweetly-cursed--who are struggling with the needs of the mortal life and I have seen them just slide, slide, slide. 
I had a friend, also a professor in the seminary who was sweetly-cursed, and thought he was a poet, until one day, he ran away from himself. Today, I do not know where he is. Internet? No: it does not tell us everything. You Google some people, and Google, for all its brilliance, is also unknowing sometimes. 
For 2015, I still keep on hoping that I shall be able to write something sweet. 
Let that happen. If not, I am stuck on my FB wall writing gibberish like this one. 

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