i try to speak but i cannot / words were harder than i thought / i tried to run to You but i’m stuck / and i can’t move / but i feel it in my veins / a change is taking place / breaking free the mould i’ve made / i’m starting to move . . .

love you back, addison road

I’ve been trying to find words to write, any words to write, for over a week now. I typically have no shortage of words, and yet, I am at a standstill.

So I write about having no words.

Writing, for me, has been as much therapy as anything. It’s a healing process in and of itself, it’s a healing process in reading back those words weeks, months, years later. It has been that kind of a process since I was nine years old. I write less so to write and more so to find something inside of it–inside of me–later on. ย And when I feel like I have nothing to uncover–or nothing I really want to find inside myself–then I unfortunately shove it aside.

Yet, likely, in those moments, I need it then, too.

The stagnancy. The routine.

Things I do not like.

Maybe the words help me break free of that as well.

4 thoughts on “finding the words

  1. I noticed it’s been a while. I always look forward to reading your blog posts. Writing is great therapy. I don’t do enough of it myself (other than translating what other people have written…). If you don’t have anything to write about, you shouldn’t feel guilty for not writing, yo.

    1. Haha I don’t feel guilty, but I feel like sometimes I just have this compulsion to write–and when I can’t fulfill that, it frustrates me :].

  2. Don’t worry, inspiration will come in moment, in which You will be completely not ready for that ๐Ÿ™‚ I know, because I write from the moment, in which I discover writing ๐Ÿ˜‰
    Greetings from finally sunny Cracow.

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