Today my fingers twitch with the urge.

I know when it comes, it ¡s a burning sensation from the base of my spine. I place myself in front of the computer as long as I am not distracted by several other things.

I try to grasp every chance, I want to win one of these so bad, but I know how it goes, the guy with the prostitute story. Corny and full of shit, but they all praised it and it was frontpage for a week.

Look for the challenges, there might be one you can win.

But there is one of the words I detest the most.

They want a sob story, with card carrying villains, they want me to tell them to never forgive or never forget, but I have a story to tell them.

In this story I spend half a day researching, looking for facts. They want me to tell them about evil and victims, but my story is modern day Gaza strip and not 40’s Europe. In my story the victims become the torturers.

As the counter approaches zero I decide not to post the story.

I am too cowardly for the flamewar that would ensue.