Lately, it seems that I've only been clicking the button "new post" on this site once every month. It's not that the words aren't there, it's mainly that there are too many. I don't know where to start, or if I do, whether it will ever stop. Literal word vomit.
I saw a post the other day that an author writes all of his books by hand. In a notebook. With a pen. On pages. Full novels. That is so fascinating to me. Someone who enjoys writing and enjoys journals, yet I've never finished a journal. Except for sermon notes, I've never filled an entire notebook with just my words.
I remember when I was younger and we would go on trips, I would have a notebook even then. I wrote a lot of poems then. Some rhymed, some didn't. I don't even remember what they were about, but I remember showing them to mom sitting in the front seat and she would critique them or help me find a word that rhymed. I'd write over and over, flipping page after page.
It's not writer's block that hinders me from writing. I think I'm just afraid of what may come out once the writing begins. Why are we afraid of things that are good for us? Maybe you don't feel that, but some days, most days, I do.
And the only thing that comes from that is joy hindered.
Maybe I need to get back to the pages. Actual, paper pages. I need to grab my favorite pen and just let the words spill out. I don't need to write a novel, I just need to write.
Morning and night. After my prayers and praises, paper and pen.
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