Teach Me About Life

Ernest Hemingway said, "there is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." Well lately I've been feeling like there's no blood in my veins at all. No heart beat to start the blood pumping, to pour out into words and punctuation.

The need to write is calling, but the inspiration to is not. And it's leaving me feeling pretty helpless. I feel the need to express but I'm not exactly sure how and in what form. I miss writing, but lately it hasn't been the form of expression that my mind seems to want to utilize. I'm not sure if my mind wants to utilize any form at all. My thoughts have been very personal and turbulent lately, not really things I feel comfortable sharing on this platform. Not that I think any one really reads this now unless I publicize it, but there's always that off-chance...

I suppose this was just a check in. An attempt at maybe sparking some thing in my head. It's Thanksgiving tomorrow and usually I have some form of thought that I feel I need to share. But not this time, not yet at least. My thoughts have been preoccupied with many anxieties and uncertainties and I wish it would just take a second to breathe and see that it's not as bad as it seems to be. But you know, that's always easier said than done.

So teach me about life, and not constantly worrying about external events. Teach me about living and breathing and bleeding. Maybe then the writing will come.