The Ugly Truth

I have lost my ability to write. To create.

Few labels stick to me. But...writer. Yes, that rings true, in the deepest parts of my soul.

I used to write frequently. But in the effort to "be successful" my writing slipped. I wrote less on paper and more in my head. Every night I would go to sleep, composing the next chapter. Until I've realized years have gone by without a heartfelt word of my creation ever finding it's place on the page.

And now the need is overwhelming. To write and write and write. To let go of all this miasma of life and let the words flow.

But I can't.

I have lost my ability to compose an original idea, to create those beautifully complex worlds of youthful imagination. I feel stagnate and wretchedly hopeless.

I don't know what to say. I don't know how to say what needs to be said.

But I know I need to start.