I’m in a funk – a place that I can’t pull myself out of. I am trying to write but nothing seems right or worthy.
I made the decision to just let my fingers move across the page hoping that something would appear and make sense. Nothing yet except these ramblings and moans. I don’t like being here, a writer without a plan, without a seed, without a story. Nothing, empty, blank.
I just couldn’t let two weeks go by without trying.
So here is my attempt. It is simply just words on a page.