Fight Face
I want to write. I've been wanting to write for a while. Somehow I feel if I just sit on my idea, it will never hatch. It will never see the light of day. The idea is there and it excites and scares me. But I fear I don't have enough expression and words. It's been a long time since I was able to just put words down on paper and do nothing, I simply sat there holding the pen (or placing my fingers on the keyboard) and the stories would just write themselves. I miss that. I had no fear like I do today. I didn't share my stories with many, in fact, I can only think of 2 or 3 stories that I've ever shared; but I had dozens more written here and there.
Sometime between my two pregnancies, I found myself writing again. I didn't know where I was going with my story, but I just wanted to write. I enjoyed the experience so much that I couldn't repeat it. It was almost as if I've already used up most of my writing enjoyment quota and now I have to savor whatever little I have left of it. When did this happen, I wonder?
Even if I wanted to try and draft my story, I am so out of practice. It is already an amazing task that I've put down this much thought. I've grown so used to sharing nothing and having no outlet that I just don't know what to write anymore.
Sometime between my two pregnancies, I found myself writing again. I didn't know where I was going with my story, but I just wanted to write. I enjoyed the experience so much that I couldn't repeat it. It was almost as if I've already used up most of my writing enjoyment quota and now I have to savor whatever little I have left of it. When did this happen, I wonder?
Even if I wanted to try and draft my story, I am so out of practice. It is already an amazing task that I've put down this much thought. I've grown so used to sharing nothing and having no outlet that I just don't know what to write anymore.
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