For how long can you stare at half written pages of a story you once wanted to work on but cant anymore? I blame bad music, bad room lighting, uninspiring view of closed walls but truth is it’s just me and my mind. It’s not a writer’s block it’s a writer’s inability to be one because the heart is hurting and is adamant about giving up.
Sometimes my heart can be such a dram a queen.
If only there was a gadget for hugs, a machine with pre-programmed hugs for all kind of moods. Press a button and get the happy hug, the comforting hug, the its-okay-hug, the you-are-loved-hug, the you-are-awesome hug, etc etc.
Got to go. Goodnight world!