Father: Son, this story is not about me, but my friend. A friend I'm always with when I was young. The one who knows me more than myself. He's a procrastinator, by the way, just like me. He loves the idea of writing, loves the idea of being able to move someone's emotions, he loves the "idea". However, he's a seasonal writer. A writer who can't write if there's no reason to write. He's constantly looking for a reason, if there's none, there's not going to be an ink on his paper or a letter on his screen. He waits for the right moment, moment to write his epic novel. Son: But he's a seasonal writer? Father: Yes he is. Son: So what kind of season does he like? Summer? Winter? Fall? Spring? Father: "When it's the right time, he'll know." That's what he always said to me. Four seasons had passed but he never wrote a chapter. He said, "I know when the right season is. I know. I'll know". He wanted to start writing when he felt sad, but he thought it's better to write when he's happy for he doesn't want his emotions to be blurry. But when he's happy, he forgets everything. Until the right moment passed by. He became bed ridden. He forgot the moving lines he's been saving for his epic novel. He even forgot the signs of the right season to write. Not once he wrote a single letter, for his imaginary readers. He's been waiting for his season, a moment he thought would come. Now he'll never know the right season to write an epic novel, for he is already gone. Son, write while you can, not when you're gone. ------- I would love to know your thoughts on this. Are you a seasonal writer? Or if you need to write you can just write?