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It’s hard to write when I hit blocks in the story or life gets busy.  Right now it’s life.

It’s like my whole get up and go went and got up and left.  So overused.  How about more like my energy formed into a circle so tight it caught on fire and burst into flames leaving ash and flickers of hot embers.  Yeah that would be about how I feel right now too.

I’ve been busy with personal things.  At first it seems ok until your sputter out of gas and wonder how far a walk is it to fill up.  You sit in the car lost.  You stare out windows across flat plains.  You bang your fist against the dash as if the dash caused the whole event.  Finally you get out of the car, tug the darn gas can and start the long journey forward.  Those first steps are horrible.  Your legs feel like lead.  You move forward.  You look back at the car.  It’s still large and begging you to sit in it.  You turn your back on it and move on.  Your head begins to hurt from the sun.  You grab at the sunglasses on your head only to realize you left them in the car.  You look back.  The car is a dot.  Hunched over and defeated you continue walking.

I’m walking just not to a point where I can find my energy back.  Might be days.  I have to keep going though and I know I can’t let my energy level rule my writing.  Tonight, I’ll write but it will be like the walk from the car.  It won’t be fun.  It will be hard and I know I’ll stop, thinking I should give up.  Sit in the car.  I won’t.  I’ll keep writing until the chapter is done.  If I get lucky, a faint ember of fire will spark me to feel happy and excited.  It won’t last long as the ember by the end will have faded and have gone out.  But I’ll write.  Just like if I ran out of gas, I’d walk.