Cuts to the brain
There is a wear and tear to being human, and progress demands a price. Each lift of a dumbbell is a micro-tear to your muscles. Each pluck of a guitar is the start of a new callus.
One cannot get stronger, better, faster without pushing oneself closer to the edge of destruction.
So what then is the cost of writing? Were I to look inside my mind. Would I see the scorch marks left behind by each neuron fired, each synapse connection frayed a little more?
Or is the cost spiritual. If I were to look inside my soul. Would it be in tatters? Each creative burst an explosion?
One day, man may be able to heal all cuts and sores, the price demanded of us to keep living on this earth? But after 300, 500, and 1000 years, even if your body were perfect and whole, which soul could take such destruction?
For a cut to the soul never heals.