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Hold the fruit.

The lack of writing, I think, is why I've been so wound up lately. I haven't been able to sort through thoughts properly. Haven't been able to compose myself, I guess. I've lost my routine. Maybe I just need to get my groove back.

Or get used to a new one.

It's just hard. I really don't feel motivated to write. So much for passion. It's one of those things, though, that I sort of need to keep doing things properly. Legitimate diaries and journals get lost or forgotten. Or, well, actually, they don't. I always feel so guilty trying to write in a nice journal. With the nice binding and covers and nice paper. I'll write for a little while and then stop because I worry I'm wasting a nice book with doodles and random nonsense. Nice books like that should be filled with wonderful things. Oh well.

Comments

claudine said…
That's exactly how I am with nice journals. I have several blank ones in my drawer at home that I have been too wary to fill up.
November 1, 2010 at 11:55 PM
Carolynn said…
I never write in the nice ones. However, I've found that cheap, 50 cent composition books (the ones you can't tear pages out of without pretty much ruining them) are the best. The marble cover ones. The Harriet the Spy ones.
October 24, 2011 at 10:38 AM
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