I have told you this, countless times.
This is not my first attempt. I have been meaning to "write" something here-- something that will give an utter explanation of how it feels to be a struggling penpusher.
My dashboard is now filled with drafts I have decided not to revert to.
For example today, I have no words in mind which makes this tussle a hassle in the muscle. I think (yes, I do) I am not in my best disposition to splatter all my musings in one sitting.
Time and again, I am in the middle of the decision of letting it all out. But for now, even the ink won't cooperate with me, I can feel how it has dried up, how it needs to be refilled immediately.
How.. when I could not even pen my thoughts seamlessly.
Give me back my reason for writing. Be my reason. Will you?
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