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It is hard to explain what it feels like to know that when you get up in the morning you can just sit and write — a journal, poetry, prose — all day long until you are too tired to pick up a pencil or sit at a keyboard, until your ability to put words together cohesively slips from your fingers — not from the fatigue of a long day at a job but from a long day of words bumping up against each other as they struggle to get from your brain to the page.
— Valentine Pierce