step, hear, change

as I walked to the train after work on this day
I heard a man loudly speak to a friend

they crossed in the opposite direction from me
and I caught just a fragment of what they were saying
to each other

I walked one way
they walked the other
words
heard
done

"I mean it was just really bad writing..."

that's all that I caught the man say
then he's gone

but wow
I thought, how terrifying
to have someone feel that way towards you
towards something that you've maybe analyzed, worried over and poured your heart into

to write is a difficult process
and often one that is never quite done

a person must write with the willingness to get to a messier, deeper truth whilst maintaining a clarity for which others to enjoy

this is rarely easy

I still go back to edit blogs I'd written months ago
and consider writing both a gift and a chore
a process that sets free all the juxtapositions and quandaries inside of ourselves
mind-numbing
quiet
alive

the end result may rarely be perfect
but also rarely is it worthless either

"I mean it was just really bad writing..."

and he was gone