The feeling that set me up so frequently for creativity has escaped. Once more it is out of my grasp and I remain unsure as to when it will return. Without it, my mind turns to black when my fingers reach the keys and I can't help but focus on the mourning for what's been lost. Attempts at writing come up half hearted and results lackluster.
Appreciation for what's been given is masked by the greed for more.
Still, despite the mental wall that I yearn to break through, it is through writing this that I try to gain that thanks.
Everything is still as it should be and I am thankful for those that I have and the chances I get.
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