I've had a hell of a time putting words down lately. Well, that's not true actually. I feel like I'm constantly putting words down--making lists, jotting, starting sentences that never quite reach punctuation. Lots of bits, but not much to show for it. It's starting to exhaust me. It's not even a block...more like writer's constipation.
Ugh. I know. I apologize, but really, really, really...it's how I feel right now.
I spend all day long, constantly and constantly, thinking and forming paragraphs in my head. Things that sound great, but which disappear on screen. I write and write and write and write and when I'm through I've said nothing.
I'm grasping for a minute, a moment, a something of quiet. Just enough quiet so I can hear past the static and figure out what it is that I've been trying to say for God knows how long.
Every night I go to bed dreaming of Joan Didion's peach and hoping that maybe tomorrow it will be quiet enough to taste it.
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