...though they come but in trickles.
My friend and officemate Michelle read my long post on Firefly and commented that, at last, I had written something lengthy. It seemed that this blog had been almost nothing but pictures the past few months. I can't help but agree.
I can think of a number of reasons why I should have abandoned my blogging habits of yore, but in the main, the root cause is more frightening than I care to admit. And it's this:
I'm finding it harder and harder to write. The words don't come as easily as they did before.
As to the reasons behind this, well, they're harder to figure out. Three possibilities that come to mind:
1. I've become more critical of what I write. Even as I write this supposedly simple post, I'm constantly editing in my head and on the screen, backspacing and cutting a section here and there. And so I'm stopping the flow myself.
2. I've come into an existential crisis in writing. I'm wondering why I do what I do, and whether there's a point to all this. There are simply too many words out there already, in print and on the Internet. Honestly, I feel lost.
3. As a result, I have become discouraged. That's right: discouraged.
As I said, it's quite frightening.