Freedom to Choose

This is not about writing; it’s about freedom. Freedom is what every human wants and deserves. Without freedom, we are slaves. Without freedom, we do not prosper. Without freedom, we do not have personal rights. I would give up everything for freedom.

Freedom is what my father, my grandfather and all veterans fought for in the great wars. Freedom is what our ancestors sought when they left countries where they were mere peasants under a monarch’s rule. Freedom is the ultimate goal in every society.

Fighting Against Freedom

There’s been horrible rumblings in society over the past ten months about taking away a person’s freedom to choose what goes into their body. I’m going to come right out and say this, and if you don’t like it, too bad.

This is my body. I decide what goes into it and what doesn’t. If you think otherwise and try to go against my choice, you’re in for a fight. I don’t care about your health as much as I care about mine. I’m not threatening my health to appease you. I am NOT responsible for your health – you are!

To think otherwise is foolish. To think otherwise means I have the right to tell you how to live your life to better your health. That means no more cigarettes or recreational drugs. No more three meals a day; you’re down to two. Watching TV for more than four hours a week? Not anymore. You don’t spend a minimum of two hours outside walking or doing another activity regardless of the weather? Get off the couch! Pig out on six donuts? Nope. Drink pop? Not on my watch.

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Why Do I Write?

Why I writeI’ve been asked many questions over the decades concerning writing, but one that often stands out is: Why do you write?

I’ve answered this with a question of my own: why do you fish, why do you build houses, why do you do what you do? The obvious reason is because I want to.

Telling others why I loved fishing was easier than explaining why I loved to write. I mean, to many, writing was school work, which they were thankfully graduated from and wouldn’t have to do again.

Lately, I get this question with an add on: Why do write so much?

Ten years ago, I couldn’t answer this question nor the simple one (why do you write) as accurately as I can at this moment. It’s not that I’ve thought about it any more; the answer simply comes to me when I’m asked.

Why do I write like a mad woman?

The Short Answer

I have stories that need to be told before I die, and I want to live where I love.

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