Linbido
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2003
- Posts
- 515
A two week hiatus of total absence of muse.
A brain on strike since Christmas.
A nerve that got fried in the New Year's fireworks.
Nothing comes out. All of a sudden I have nothing to say about anything anymore. Thoughts, ideas and inspiration is all around me, but for some odd reason nothing seems to give me the urge to put it into poems.
(Actually, exactly that just spawned a poem. The first one in ages, it seems.)
After an inspiring season, ignited my you wonderful people here on the poet board and my ever present Ice at home, I ran out of....something. What? I haven't got the faintest idea.
WTF? Does someone have jumper cables? I love to write, that's not the problem. I long to write. But whenever I sit my sorry ass in front of a keyboard, by brain turns to churned butter.
I think I'll have to shake some fog out of my head. It might take a while. And while I do, I won't have much to say about the fine art of herding poultry.
I love you all, and I'm still around, but until I get my head screwed on straight again, I don't think I'll be paying all that much attention to the forum or the flood of new poems. Because frankly, your relentless productivity is starting to give me a serious inferiority complex.
How can anyone fart out such good poems on a daily basis the way many of the regulars here do? Is it really with such effortless ease that it seems?
hugs to y'all
-Lin
A brain on strike since Christmas.
A nerve that got fried in the New Year's fireworks.
Nothing comes out. All of a sudden I have nothing to say about anything anymore. Thoughts, ideas and inspiration is all around me, but for some odd reason nothing seems to give me the urge to put it into poems.
(Actually, exactly that just spawned a poem. The first one in ages, it seems.)
After an inspiring season, ignited my you wonderful people here on the poet board and my ever present Ice at home, I ran out of....something. What? I haven't got the faintest idea.
WTF? Does someone have jumper cables? I love to write, that's not the problem. I long to write. But whenever I sit my sorry ass in front of a keyboard, by brain turns to churned butter.
I think I'll have to shake some fog out of my head. It might take a while. And while I do, I won't have much to say about the fine art of herding poultry.
I love you all, and I'm still around, but until I get my head screwed on straight again, I don't think I'll be paying all that much attention to the forum or the flood of new poems. Because frankly, your relentless productivity is starting to give me a serious inferiority complex.
hugs to y'all
-Lin