I am very aware of my absence.
I wonder if I have any readers left?
I wish I could wake up and it would be summer. The crystal blue water would be swimmable. The enemy of the wintry darkness would be a memory of the past.
The curtains remain down, I get afraid to lift them. I ignore the weather man, and don my self in the warmest woollies, desiring to ignore the shifting of the breeze. Today it is blowing in from a snowy mountain somewhere south.
I have writers block today. My feature film is but 6 scenes out of first draft completion. My short film cannot get beyond the Meet Cute.
Do you feel the anxiety rip through your chest when you want to express every emotion in you, but the words are so locked up they can't even be forced out.
Does anyone have a suggestion for writers block? Or a bad dream. A bad dream might cause a new revelation.
I danced in my room the other night. It was late. The house was sleeping. I wanted to express this feeling to someone, and my feet carried the rhythm.
What Really Happens in Central Africa
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