It’s one of those days where I feel like I want to write, to have something to say. I want to make something breath taking, then I just want to make something, then I think of all the people and all the stories that have flown into my lifetime, unwanted or otherwise… and then I realise that nothing is coming out.
I sit and I question and I keep trying, but nothing is being written. It’s been since November since I wrote anything. Why haven’t I written anything? I’ve read articles upon blogs. But nothing.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to stop reading books about how to be creative, how to be a writer and I should really just start doing.
It’s one of those days. I’m stuck on the sofa staring at my laptop, thinking of all the things I should, could be writing, if only I had something to say.