I don’t know why, but I have been having a very difficult time with my writing as of late. My biggest purpose for writing is to heal my heart and soul, but the last few weeks, I’ve been lost. Absent. Empty. Unsure what I’m doing or where I’m going. The other day, I went and sat at the aquarium for two hours, with my pen and pad in hand, and all I could do is stare at the fish in the tank. A little girl came and sat next to me. She put her hand on my knee, and all I could do was break down into tears, trying desperately to hide them, but exploded when she walked off with her mom.
Usually, when I can’t write, I will take myself to the other side and write an erotic story, which usually helps me release my anger and my pain, but I haven’t even been able to do that as of late. I guess this is part of the reason you haven’t seen me here lately. Feeling as though I have nothing to say, nothing to contribute. After all, my healing is why I was brought here in the first place, right?
I don’t know, I’m just a bit flustered.
This morning I started another fictional story, intended to be an erotic one, but it’s just not going that way. Maybe the beginning of something different? I don’t know. We’ll see just where it takes me.
silentwriter180 