After posts like yesterday’s, in which I untangle a knot that I’ve worked at and worried at, I find myself empty of words or thoughts that can hold their own. While the revelation is fresh in my mind and next on the page, it is hard to move on.
Writer’s block. Ticking clock. Whether my fingers can’t find letters to weave or I simply run out of day, I must respond to these in order to meet my goal of blogging-also-known-as-creating-and-recording every day. Thus I must always have something useful at hand, inspiring and unlabored.
So, each day I will become better than I was and I will record here. Dawn points to all hope of the day, but dusk requires the telling of its fruit.
Tonight’s tale: I played with boom for a solid 10 minutes when I arrived home before I opened the computer or opened the fridge.