Writing is -

Cryin' all the time

Born out of fear.

Writing is

being kept in the dark.

Above

Something we can do now that the gods have fled.  ⚉

Caring for you.

ink.

Blood.

Motorin' ⚤

At that moment I knew what the plebs were, much more clearly than when, years earlier, she had asked me. The plebs were us. The plebs were that fight for food and wine, that quarrel over who should be served first and better, that dirty floor on which the waiters clattered back and forth, those increasingly vulgar toasts. The plebs were my mother, who had drunk wine and now was leaning against my father’s shoulder, while he, serious, laughed, his mouth gaping, at the sexual allusions of the metal dealer. They were all laughing, even Lila, with the expression of one who has a role and will play it to the utmost.

Elena Ferrante

4 things at once ('the Fourfold' - c.f. Martin Heidegger).

No way!

ok - two things at once.

the circumstances (in which we find ourselves).  ('the times').

of little help...

Yes and no.

Of no material value.

chill for a couple of minutes 

Lying.

Dyin'

Very very frightenin'

For school. (Not).

Too cool for school!

Well then!  In that case it really is for fightin'.

A Seed (?)

a Pip.

The plight of the young.

A future foretold.

The endless night ✪

An inability to stop.

Like the changing light.

A dying friend.  (and his uber-cool tattoos).

The howling wind.

Give us a Break!

Art - and nothing more.

Like this - 

 But not as good as this - 

Ok, and here we go again;

(groans from off-stage).