When the emptiness reaches epic proportions and the output seems awfully diminished and there is no light (seemingly) at teh end of the tunnel and writing is becming a hopeless chore of a pleasure.. and when I wonder if theis life chice was the tight one to make and then I realize that I have no choice. All was happenin, as it should, in the way as it shuld, artfully presented to , as if I really have a choice when in reality, I had non a at all. ait, this isnot what blieve, and I am typing on and on, disregarding of spelling anf grammar. Nayway, I'll go back and edit it al.
When the emptiness reaches epic proportions and the output seems awfully diminished and there is no light (seemingly) at the end of the tunnel and writing is becoming a hopeless chore instead of a pleasure… and when I wonder if this life choice was the right one to make and then I realize that I have had no choice. All was happening, as it should, in the way as it should, artfully presented to me, as if I really have a choice when in reality, I had none at all. Wait, this is not what I believe, and I am typing on and on, disregarding of spelling and grammar. Anyway, I'll go back and edit it all.
