While sitting cross-legged on the living room floor last night, a notebook in my lap and an orange marker in my hand, I watched my brother play a video game while I doodled mindlessly on the page, wondering why words weren't coming out. I stared into space and said to no one in particular, "I can't write."
Somewhere inside of me, though, I didn't believe that. I don't believe I can't write, I don't even believe I have writers block or anything.
I think that right now, my emotions are so strong and present that I am a little bit overwhelmed, and because of that, I can't exactly put those intense feelings down. I've tried many times over the past few days, but I'm keeping them locked inside, as if I would lose them if I shared them. I'm not going to lose them. They will always be there, bright and loud and obvious and beautiful.
A short break won't hurt me. From writing, I mean. I'll study for my GED, start notes for my next project, edit BH... I have plenty to keep me occupied.
Oh, and poetry. I'm supposed to be giving that another try. ;D
"At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet." -Plato
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