Lately, I miss writing. I've been jotting down notes, zygotes of ideas, barely fully formed that are worming their way to the surface. I feel a little lost when I am not actively engaged with creative writing in some form every single day. For me, jotting down lines just doesn't feel like it's ever really enough. Hmm, that sounds like my Type A personality rearing it's head, excuse me while I put her back in that closet. Yes, still wresting between over-working and under-working. Where to strike the balance?
Like this for instance...I wrote on the train home one night.
A couple huddles in a dark embrace
of tongue, teeth and wet lips
who are they but youthful gods
searching for their power
in the mouth
in the love
a reflection of potential being
the city alight with possibilities
Not really sure yet what it needs to become but the words are on the page at least.
Why am I not writing? I am still dealing with some health issues that are not fully resolved so after a full day of work all I can really do is crash. So the tidbits of scrap paper at the bottom of my purse and the notes in my lavender-colored notebook will have to do for now until I can begin again. Today-Wednesday April 30th, I've completed two months of working at this new job. It's been an adjustment and I'm still adjusting but more importantly I need to do my own creative work to balance out my day job. All for now will write more soon.
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