Like the roots of the earth in the hot Indian days of summer, I struggle to find refreshing inspiration for writing.
Nothing tastes good. Nothing quenches my thirst of what I consider “quality” writing. Nothing sparks, there’s no river flow of creativity.
I guess, I shall keep walking… Hoping to find that water. I desire it; I imagine it.
I can almost feel it…
It’s right at the top of my finger tips.
Don’t force it
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Soon it will come. 👍😉
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Thank you, I surely believe so, too.
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🙏😉
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I’ve learned that dry seasons are actually important. Things work in a process. Rivers dry up, but the rain season does eventually return.
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I believe that. Maybe it’s a season of reflection and reading?
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Yes, that too. Recouping and getting a fresh inspiration.
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I have like a 142 days of consecutive posting behind me. I’m exhausted
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It’s better to step out for a while than to burn out. And I completely understand with everything you have just went through. Take a while to rest!
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