That’s what I feel like.
I’ve got this blog sitting in front of me, waiting for some sort of brilliance to spill out and instead, I’m just an empty vessel.
I feel the empty “pages” calling me,
making me feel guilty for neglect.
It’s not like life hasn’t been happening.
Quite the contrary, it has been and it’s not like I couldn’t or wouldn’t have things to write or say,
except the words won’t come.
I’ve started writing 4 or 5 different posts and just
saved them to draft.
Because the words are not there.
It’s a dry spell,
or writer’s block,
or just maybe, after 6 years of writing, I have nothing to say anymore.
I don’t know.
Participating with Just Write at The Extraordinary Ordinary.