i have had it for almost 3 years now.
on occasions i've managed to vomit out a few interesting, but not quite profound strings of sentences in order to convince myself that I am:
still having a writers block.
still not a great writer or original.
still stuck on pursuing something I may not ever really catch.
what happened?
where did it go?
how can words just stop pouring in?
where do they go? are they off to someone random blogger? are they being formulated in my future childrens minds? have they drifted off into a sea of sentences along with suicides of great men?
where do they go?
and when are they coming back?
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