Thoughts

I don't get the same pleasure from writing that I used to. Once upon a time, it was cathartic. It was a release of emotion, a way to purge the excess stuff. 

Now it's a chore.

These days, if I get the inspiration to write something, it rarely lasts long enough to reach for the computer or a piece of paper.

I can't even find it in me to complete this post.

I miss writing.
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Well... The World Did Not End (351-360)

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Rocky Mountain (Too) High (341-350)