So here we are…

there is a time when I can’t write anything, because everything I write has been written before. I can’t write what others have wrote. I don’t want to bore anyone with mundane, repetitive crap. I can’t write during these times, because I feel I can’t say what I want to say. I am mute, I am without a pen. I am frustrated that nothing comes to me, nothing is inspiring me. I have said what I wanted to say. Does anyone really run out of things to say or write? Beauty compels me to write, but I lack the proper vocabulary to describe it. I hope it goes away tomorrow. I am uninspired.