Sometimes, the feelings inside yourself stop making noises and choose to move underground, like a fire on a hidden coal mine. That often makes you stare at the window in your PC's desktop, the cursor blinking, and it just does not work. The feelings are not driving you this time.
Yet, you can't stop the daily exercise, that weak commitment with yourself. So you insist on writing something. Any vague idea that crosses your mind and goes slow enough to be seen. The doubt that remains in a dark spot, the certain fact covered in thorns, the flat fact that reveals no emotion. One of those should be good enough to write something about.
And the cursor keeps blinking. Travelling back and forth without moving a single pixel.
I guess this anguish is worthy enough to be written down this way alongside all the sentimental stuff. The fact I just write stuff while being driven by feelings keeps me a long way from the people with real skills on this matter. Those who write what they want to, the way they want to.