I still have this flat apathy toward writing. I think apathy is the right word here. Lack of interest? It’s not a writer’s block because it’s not that I want to and can’t, it’s just that I don’t want to. And it’s not just that I don’t want to work on BG, I don’t want to work on anything. I have no new ideas, no new sparks of possibilities.
Lorna and I discussed this last night and she says it is perfectly fine. It will come back.
Somehow I feel I should be sitting on the side of the bed as she tells me “it’s okay, it happens to everyone. there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” she says. “but it’s never happened to me before”, I say.
What if it is just a passing fad of mine? What if it never comes back? What if I really don’t care if it never comes back?
Rambling, ranting, venting, waxing
Words tumble out but not in order
And not where I want themPoetic, prophetic, problematic, pathetic
Words trapped behind a wall of apathy
And not where I want them.