random acts of senseless beauty

And still the words don’t come.

Thing is, that’s not exactly true.  I’m still as dramatically verbose on iChat, at work, and with my wee reviews as I ever was.  It just seems to be here, on my beloved blog, where inspiration fails me.

I click open Firefox and see my blue and yellow banner.  I see the date of the last post and feel that oh-so-familiar feeling of  gently nagging guilt. I hear in my head all the things that I can’t write about, and it’s then that instinct kicks in;  ignore it, move a way quickly, pretend you don’t see it, and it’ll go away faster.

So I click on Facebook, or Flickr, other peoples blogs… anywhere I can look to see if anyone else has words for me.  Bones to pick through.  A refreshing glass of water.

You see, it’s not that I don’t like words right now.  I always like words.  In fact I’m beginning to realise how desperately I need them all around me to inspire, encourage, reassure and amuse me.  I’ve always known they’re important, but now I realise they’re a complete necessity like oxygen, enabling me to breathe, to live, to love.

I’m sorry, dear blog, that you’ve slipped down my agenda.  I promise I’ll try to make it a short and passing phase.   You’re still a part of me.  Always.