Ever have your muse drag you to a book and leave you staring at the blank pages? It's as if you want to write, but at the same time you don't, because it just doesn't feel natural.
I'm getting that torn feeling now, and it's especially bad after my awesome writing stint on Thursdays. I can't understand how a person can get lifted so high one day, and then be dropped a few days later.
Even as I sit here, I am wrestling to put the words down. Of course, this is further complicated by the fact that my k-key doesn't want to work. See? I'm threatening to go into the banalities because it feels like I have nothing to say.
Why then, am I burdening you with a post that says nothing? Because I know that that something is there. I just have to find it. The feeling reminds me of bumping into someone you recognize, but whose name you forgot. It's there, but you just can't make that connection.
I just wonder if I'm the only one that feels like this. After all, most writers love writing so much that I can't imagine that they would not want to write. Why do I get these bouts of conflict?
Luckily, I have the cure to this, even if I don't know the cause. I just keep writing. Eventually I get to a point where I have trouble with reining in my words, where I am almost saddened to leave the world of my book to get to the nitty gritty of investment management and economics. Then... the whole process starts over again.
But that's OK, because writing is what makes me understand people. It helps me to explore myself and it lets me take flights of fancy to distant lands and different times. It's the keeper of my sanity. I won't let anything come in the way of writing - not even myself.