I quit writing.
I'm not sure when or why, I simply quit the process of putting down my thoughts and ideas and the world that lives in my head... it all ground to a halt. I find pieces of paper with a word here or a phrase there, and I've no idea what I was going for or what I meant to say or why I even wrote that word or phrase. I'm not deep in the dumps or upset, I am simply caught up in a place of white noise and no inspiration, is all I can think.
I love Six Sentences.... I can't even compose six words.
There is the continuing feeling I am on the cusp of something... that I am waiting to tip over the edge of a big change in my life, and I have to save all my words for that to happen.
Or, I'm simply out of words to say. (I can hear everyone who knows me laughing there).
I go for a day at a time, not speaking.... listening to whatever it is God is telling me, wondering if he can get past the clutter that is in my head... all the babble and confetti and scraps of ideas and thoughts and left over mish mash that constitutes my interior world.
Or, is all of that his answers to my questions?