The clock is ticking for this month... should I also say, for this year. As much as I want to write, words seem too shy to come out. My mind is full, but the form doesn't want to be drawn. My drafts have been waiting [like forever] for the blogger's strike of pen once again.
Words, where art thou?
I will be trekking the mountains soon and will be leaving again the pen behind. Maybe inspiration will come from there... out from the mountains, on top of the terraces, in between the leaves.
Words, where art thou?
Please do come to me quickly. You are missed.
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