Myself, Writing

Writing 2: A Blog Post

Story of I
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Finally did my morning pages after a few months and thought I would share with you:

same, the random ideas come but nothing stays long enough for me to jot down.  I am still struggling with the idea of writing something and time is growing near.  I am almost 40 without a story to my credit. I want to be published dammit.  What can I do to seduce you back?  Why have you abandoned me?  What do you need to flourish inside of me?  Work is not me, you are me yet you hide, devise ways to stay away, making me seem incapable, unwilling to start putting something down for posterity.  It is as if you are afraid that I will misuse you, abuse your nature, blunting the truth down to ignorance.   What can I do to show you that I am more than capable, that I will be to true to you and no other?  Our dance has gone on too long, the flirtation now a joke.  It is time to commit to each other, to make it a real marriage.  I do not know how to get flush you out, to get you to give me the words to show my truth.  Instead, you have given me only silence and small teasers of what could be, wriggling away from my grasp whenever I come close to you.  Enough!  I need you. I want you.  I desire you like nothing else.  Come back to me. Make me whole.  Make me right.

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