Posted in stream of consciousness

My Cup Is Empty

I want to write, so badly, but my brain is stuck in update.

I feel like I’m constantly processing and unable to ever get far enough to spew my learnings onto paper.

Every day there’s a new piece of information, a new outrage, a new something that leaves me staring at the screen and grimacing.

Why are we like this?

Perhaps its the effects of months long abnormality or a year that has proven, like most stressful times, when one thing goes it all falls apart.

This year has been the car with freshly erupted flames on the side of the interstate. The family, barely freed from its grip, looks on in horror as they wonder how they got there.

Because of that, the constant imploding of every moment this year has had to offer, I feel my creative well has run dry and I’m in desperate need of replenishing it.

Anyone else? I know I can’t be alone.