Why Am I Writing?

Why am I writing? I ask myself this question many time. I am sometimes ask: why you do this, continually, instead of live life properly? Does writer live life? I can only say I do live life too. I write and I live life as a maximum.  I keep IDIOT to minimum. Thus is how I live my life. Many of my friend are not giving tuppence for writing of sensitive, artistic and curious nature but some you would be surprise. Good friend Shane Warne take pleasure in Genet. Andy Murray, fine young man, read Balzac in locker room. Warren Beatty, actor, read Rimbaud with children. Antony Worrall Thompson big fan of Poe, tale of mystery and suspense. Sheena Easton, singer, big fan of Thomas Hardy.  And some they do write, themself. Ian Botham, cricketer, write Haiku, for instance (I have one and only copy):

THE SKY IS SO BLUE
THE BATSMAN LIKE A DEAD COW
FROM AUSTRALIA

And I have example of silly little thing, but endearing, from Bjorn Borg, master tennis player. After period of terrible depression he write joke for Christmas cracker:

Q: WHAT IS SANTA FAVOURITE PIZZA?
A: ONE WHICH IS DEEP PAN, CRISP AND EVEN.

Yo ho ho. Life is various and peculiar.

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