Posts about writer’s block are abundant. I’m sure one day I will know this feeling, but today I can’t fathom it.
My head is packed full of ideas for writing; evidenced by a life full of random scribblings written on what ever I could find. There is crayon phone book ponderings by the answering machine and return envelope ideas penned in my desk. There is sticky note speeches, novel notebooks, and even temporary tattoos in the corner of my hands.
Coming up with things to talk about is easy when you have lived a life full meaning. It’s finding the time to write it all down that’s difficult, when there is still so much living worth writing about.