If there really were some other way to write than actually writing, you're probably doing it. Making our way through life, means working for others, belonging to friends, and giving what we get.
In all the better versions of your life, the things you should have said sound so much more intelligent than how it came out. But as humans, we are guilty of wishing we could betray ourselves, get away with less work.
We will believe that the screw-ups could have really been handled better, if we only had more time. Our bodies, our brains and our human nature just hijacked our ability to do it right.
But as im standing here in Portland, in the 6 am chill, I'm reminded of the absurd abilities of my body. I rode my bike 7 miles to take a train, to a bus, that takes me to work, every Sunday. I am a body with a mind that somehow got me where I needed to be at the moment I needed to be there. So its not the will of the vehicle that betrays the person. The person is the vehicle. If you wrote just like you breath, then there would be passion at times, and a lot of calm even breaths as well, I hope.
The way to know what you wants is to know the vehicle. Your person needs people. People are all about conflict, and so is writing. Let your words be like the breath from your lungs. The story will always be there, don't wait for the right time to let it out.
Write on. Write what you have. And love it all. It belongs to you.
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