After a week away I find myself at a loss for what to write about. I spent the entire time I was away immersing myself in the things I missed, and wrote about them as I went. Now I wake up to the same old same of regular old life and feel a little uninspired by what is surrounding me.
If only I could just put my head back where I was and start going through the motions in the day-to-day again.
A week away, and now I draw a blank.
Relaxation has emptied my inspirational tank.
I have no new ideas to write about.
Quite simply, I’m just out.
Experiencing what I missed has sated me.
There’s nothing left to miss from what I see.
Finding what was lost has made me whole.
But it has taken its mental toll.
My minds now empty of anything new.
For what to write, I now rue.
A blank canvas now for me to start fresh.
Where new ideas and old problems can mesh.
What lies ahead for my pen I do not know.
But that light now begins to glow.