Sunday, December 21, 2014


Every day I know I should write. I know I should clear my mind. Unburden my soul. And yet I'm blocked. Distracted. Unmotivated. Uninspired. Thoughts come to me in the shower. While driving. While painting. While laying in bed. But I can never bring myself to write them down. To clarify. To unleash. To let my mind unwind. It's as if I consciously choose to keep them internal. For fear of facing the truth. As if reality would stare at me back from the page. Grab my throat. Choke me. Suffocate me. Force me to face things. No avoidance allowed.

And yet life continues. Challenging me at every step. Blocking my every move. Never dull. No break. Even when I've received this forced break. Total removal of all outside responsibilities. Empty nest. Sudden quiet and silent life. Outsiders stepping in. Making decisions without all the facts. Orthodoxy at its best.