To really write

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I haven’t been able to write since the whole demented leprechaun incident happened.

Oh, I don’t mean this kind of writing, a blog.

I mean the throw-yourself-into-another-world-so-deep-that-phones-don’t-ring-and-dogs-don’t-bark kind of writing. The kind where you nearly drown in an ocean of imagination, and it’s only after a massive struggle that you manage to break through the surface into reality, gasping for air.

The kind of writing that is an adventure all by itself. The type that revives the soul and rekindles that spark that so often bursts into spontaneous laughter.

I miss it, desperately. But there is simply too much clutter in my brain and too many items on my “To Do” list.

I can buckle down and clear off my “To Do” list, but the clutter in my brain is another story. My head simply does not like to be swept!

So I guess my dive into the ocean of imagination needs to wait just a bit longer. But only a bit!

 

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