Bound by some sort of block, I was unable to write properly. I I tried to write about what I feel, what I sense. For a while, I was unable to do that. I could write, yes, but I couldn't release the words that I wanted.
I was at a loss for words. I was troubled, and I believed I was running dry. Dry. Not that I lacked inspiration. Not that there was no drive. If there was a need to write something, I could, but only if I give it much effort. However, whenever I try something like writing a poem or a story, I couldn't get my wheels turning properly.
But, at least, now they're creaking. Rusty, but turning nonetheless. I feel good about that. Being able to write about how I feel and what I think is very important to me. Writing about how I feel and what I think is the reason why I set up a blog in the first place.
My blog is what it was, 3 years ago. You can call it sentimental, emo, crappy. I don't care. At least I don't have to pretend to write about intellectual things I don't give a sh*t for.
No comments:
New comments are not allowed.