The last time I wrote anything was five months ago. Life interrupted the flow. Now I want to write and cannot write. I feel the same way when I put something in a safe place and forget where that safe place is and I will my brain to find it somewhere in its files; the harder I push for the answer the more unreachable it becomes. The longer I sit and force myself to think, create or feel, something, anything at all the more frustrated I am, which leads to premature defeat. I quit. Then I do not try the next day or the next…
Today I am writing. Today I am writing about not being able to write. I can see words on the screen and I am satisfied and my brain does not hurt.
The Unmaking 