It has been forever since I made an entry. Almost 3 years. I am suprised it has been this long. But not really. I honestly don't have much to say. I am pretty sure nobody reads my blog anyway so it is not like it really matters. Except, I think it does. It matters that I am unable to write. It matters that I am unable to do what I best love to do. Why can't I write? I think, in a large part, it is due to my living circumstances. I live, through no fault of my own-long story, with the most useless woman imaginable. She sits in her room literally 80 to 90% of her entire day, everyday, doing absolutely nothing. She doesn't pay rent. She doesn't work. She doesn't contribute anything to the home whatsoever. Yet, for some strange, unknowable reason, the landlord, who also lives in the home, refuses to kick her out. In fact, most of the time he is not even at home. I guess he can't stand being around her either. Which makes his failure to do anything about this more mysterious. Could my disgust with my living arraingment keep me from writing? Yes, I think this is part of it. But only partly. Also, I don't have the support that all writers desperately need. I may write but who will read? Who will comment? Who will even notice? Why write now? I think for the same reason why I continue to read my email tips on writing. Why I continue to read as heavily as I do. I believe that something will change. Something will spark. And one day, I will be able to write again. I guess I am in preparation for that day. < |