Sparks, Semantics and Aspirations

I used to cart around my notebook and thesaurus everywhere. Characters and conversations seemingly came from no where but were immediately familiar. The more I wrote, the more ideas I had, but I’ve fallen out of the habit.  Inspirations are few and are lost in a busy get to that later schedule.

An unfortunate why bother attitude has crept into my thinking. There is little incentive. I wrote for fun.  I wrote to make myself feel better.  It was an escape and an expulsion of feelings and thought for which there was and is no other outlet. 

I was reminded that writers write for arts sake.  And my immediate thought was that I’m not really a writer and I’m not an artist.  I always choose the most narrow and negative scope of a word when applied to myself.

But I’ve been thinking more and more about who I want to be.  And writing is always a part of it.

Today, I’ll start by putting my notebook back in my bag.


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