Why can’t I write? This so called “writer’s block” seems to be more like a permanent reality. I keep thinking the verses will come to me after my arrival home and I am able to reflect on my stay here, but I know it is only an excuse. I am losing sight of the capabilities and idealism that I used to hold on to so tightly. Thought provoking questions get stuck in my mind and they are all I can grasp making it difficult to function and interact with people throughout the day. I am always lost within myself wondering what will become of me and if I will be able to succeed in this world, and will I spend the rest of my life alone? How can I enjoy myself when these pestilent worries remain fixed and unanswered in my conscience? But I know that it will come, the answer will come unexplained and unaccounted for, just like it always does. Maybe I am trying too hard again and placing too much importance on the future and not enough energy on the present. I can never seem to put anything into perspective until it is a thing of the past.
October 7, 2001