It's been a while.

It's been a while since I wrote anything even for my own pleasure. Dry spell indeed. Every few days I try and pick up the ole' pen and paper or open a fresh word document hoping for the next Wuthering Heights ... and nothing. A few distracted sentences leading to the middle of no where.

This problem isn't exactly unheard of. I wouldn't call it writers block. As I am clearly capable of writing- this being my proof. It's more a problem of I don't have anything to write about. I went through this insane three day writing binge, where I slept a cumulative seven hours and wrote pretty much the rest. I didn't change my clothes, barely ate.. you get the picture. I keep reflecting back on that episode with fear and regret. I feel like it sucked all the creativity out of me. Do I have anything left to give? Some fourty pages of garbled fact mixed with fantasy. So much of me went into those sheets which until now remain(other than myself) unread text.

I'll admit, not much of a post. But it's a start. At least I'm writing. Even if it's complaining about not being able to write. Yeah yeah, I get it. The joke's on me.

Toodle Pip'

-S