I wrote this a while ago. Thought I’d share!
I’m not a poet or a writer. When I put pen to paper I often have these grand aspirations that the thoughts jumbled inside my head will become crisp and clear- that I’ll sort out exactly how I feel and solve what weighs me down. Emotions don’t seem to work that way though. You can’t just identify the cause of an off day to get it back on track. So why write about it? I’m not sure I have the reason why I write. I often find more solace in the well written words of another. Certain cadence and flow bring about a passion to a topic I can never recreate. Passion about what? What is eating at me now that I have taken the time to write such a seemingly meaningless passage? To drone on about my inability to portray how I feel by continuing to avoid any semblance of true emotion. And maybe that’s the problem. This off day is one void of emotion. No fuel to ignite prose that a reader like yourself can get lost in. Nothing to bring these dry words to a place worth sharing. Because if there were, I’d have effortlessly fallen asleep by now.