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I used to write a lot more than I do now.

I don’t know how to follow up that sentence. I used to write all the time, mostly just for myself. I also had a habit of deleting or straight up burning everything I wrote.

burning pages.gif

I have no idea why I destroyed so much of it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Regardless, I used to write tons, hundreds if not thousands of words every day, and even if I didn’t save what I wrote, the act of writing in and of itself is a kind of exercise. But a lot of shit happened, and I quit writing. Like, at all. I quit writing essays, short stories, blog posts, everything.

In the past year or so, I’ve been trying to keep the blog up and going. And about a month ago there was something in my brain that I just had to write out, so I sat down at my computer, and in about 2 hours had done nearly a thousand words. I’m pretty damned proud of myself for that.

Fast forward to this morning, I was out for a walk (amazing, yes), and starting thinking about this thing that I had written, and other things I wanted to write, and even more things that I wanted to write but couldn’t figure out how, and I started to figure them out, and by God I think I have some writing inspiration again.

It’s been so long since I’ve really felt inspired to write something that it feels weird to me. Good, but weird.

A good weird.

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