writer’s block

I’m blocked this morning. My inner editor has total control over what I want to say, so these long conversations are going on inside my head and nothing is coming out through my fingers. I’m hoarding ideas, having had them already judged stale, boring and so obviously not worth the time to express. Major attack. I sit looking out the window at the birds hurrying past. I sip my hot tea, silently, and then read someone else’s blog.


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