The only power that exists is inside ourselves.

God, what is it like to be You and hear all those people all the time everywhere, begging, imploring, calling out for anything and anyone?

I know nothing, because I know too much, and understand not nearly enough and never will.

Who knew that better than I, who had presided over the death of my own body, seeing all I called human wither and die only to form an unbreakable chain which held me fast to this world yet made me forever its exile, a specter with a beating heart?

In these last few days, we were close because we were both mortal men. We saw the same sun and the same twilight, we felt the same pull of the earth beneath our feet. We drank together and broke bread together. We might have made love together, if you had only allowed such a thing. But that’s all changed. You have your youth, yes, and all the dizzying wonder that accompanies the miracle. But I still see death when I look at you. I know now I cannot be your companion, and you cannot be mine

How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet.

There may be writing groups where people meet but it's occasional. You really do it all at your own computer or your own typewriter by yourself.