Which actually should be the first line and not the title. Anyway, I haven't had this surge in a long time so I will jut tap tap tap on the keyboard until I am exhausted or the idea is.
I was starting my day when I realized it... The reason why I have not been writing or have had the urge to pen it down - my thoughts, my angst, those rants and raves and railing and wailing and all of that rot that swirls around my universe.
There is no need to. Where before there was this void that needed validation, this fondness for writing borne out of the need to converse and say things that I felt strongly about and not finding either the venue or people to express it through.
I had walked under countless windowsills and always had come away disappointed and/or disillusioned when I get invited to come in the front door. Or when rebuffed and denied entry. So the escape became like a lover, the faceless woman. Companion, friend and lover.
I lost her a year back and didn't fully grasp the idea that she was my muse. I've been so enmeshed in the rebuilding that I didn't notice or give the due introspection I usually did. My muse is alive and in the flesh. I can talk now, to her. The trick here now is - To still keep writing because I love doing it, and make it work. Maybe I should carry a voice recorder
. Here we are, after the jump.
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