I miss the time when words came easily, when I'd spend my days thinking up ideas and my evenings writing them down. I miss the feeling of being inspired, and of words tumbling effortlessly out of my mind before landing onto the page before me.
Where did all of that go?
Why, now, do I feel as though my sentences are forced, plastic, predictable? Where is the spontaneity and excitement? And why does the thought of writing hurt my brain?
My notepads and Documents are filled with half-finished plots, untied knots and tangled tendrils of characters never completed... and I just can't bring myself to return to them.
What was once a place of comfort is now a wall of thorns.
It's been 2 years. Apparently writer's block isn't just a temporary affliction anymore.
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