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         I feel like my spark has died. It's like my well has run dry. I can't take this frustration. Like a bird without a song, I'm a writer without her words. I feel sick to my stomach; my brain just won't work quite right. Even now, I have difficulties just trying to write this little post. I feel pathetic. I feel lame, like a dog with mange. I need help. Just... UGH. This frustration runs deep. I... I don't know what to say. I don't know how I feel about it. I don't have much time to write, but when I do, like today, NOTHING COMES TO ME. I'm beginning to believe that somebody has kidnapped my muse. The result? The only thing I can write about is how I don't have anything to write about. It's incredibly sad, and I need help. I'm desperate! Fetch me some laxatives, because I have constipation of the mind!!!!!!!!
         Desperately, I need to start writing again. Unfortunately, I just haven't had any inspiration lately; you could say that I have an extremely terrible case of writer's block, or just that I'm being a little bit lazy. Now that school has started, I will have even less time to write freely, which sucks. Maybe I should have used my summer a little more wisely. I could have gotten a lot done. Yeah, coulda, woulda, shoulda... I get it. Truly, I need to relocate my muse, for she has run off with all of my great ideas. Sigh...
I've just edited an item in my portfolio:
 And You're Gone  [ASR]
“Closed eyes, heart not beating, but a living love.” ―Avis Corea
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/wolf.heart