Tuesday, November 15, 2011

# randomness # writing

Random Writings

It's been a long time since I just sat and wrote. The urge to write has been smothered somewhat by life and the things that have been happening here. I miss the times where I would have to pull over to the side of the road because the urge was so strong that I couldn't resist jotting down a line or two. The reality is that muses are fickle creatures and if you ignore their call too often, they will go off and sulk and you'll be left dry. That's where I've been lately. I've been dry. I've been living in the desert, longing for a sip of water, for a single line of poetry to reassure me that I can still do this.

Can I still do this? Can I sit down with nothing more than a blank screen or a blank canvas and draw pictures with my words? Can I paint such a picture that you lose yourself in the colors? I used to be able to. I would write things that would come alive in the mind of my readers. I don't know if that makes me talented but I know that I was blessed. I love to write. I've done it since I was a child. At one point, I thought perhaps I would be a writer. I would tell my stories to the world.

Now, I keep them locked inside. The reality that so few took an interest added the first lock. The fear that perhaps they weren't as good as I thought added another. Before I knew it, my words were locked in a vault that not even I knew the combination to. Will they break free? Is there someone out there who holds the combination of love, support and encouragement that will open the door? Will my muse stop pouting and visit me again? I don't know. Only time will tell and time, as we know it, can be as fickle as the muses.


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