a lag

I fell into this lag of not writing anything but repeating words inside my head. Not that a crazy sensation practiced inside of me. Yet there is some notion to that statement that is real. Sadly I just haven't been in the mode to write nor even paint. This constant edginess that quakes within me seems to just jolt me then slam me down.

So writing tends to be limited to only what is written inside a journal or daily calendar. Kind of how the days run together right now. Although at times I really would like to break out of this mold, I am finding comfort within the cracks too.

I know that this all sound rather dark or depressing but by far I am not there. I haven't felt any tug of blackness or low messings. I may sleep a little bit more but not by the days upon days sleeping. I actually do things on my own and I enjoy parks and nature very much.

So in this slow, rural area I have found grand contentment.

Not many can say that and those who do find something, it usually is NOT contentment but craziness. So I suppose I am grateful for those times.

Alas, one day I will write again. One day.