I’m busy. Writing. Or, at least, trying to. So stop trying to distract me. No, seriously. Stop trying to distract me. Just because I’m here, it doesn’t mean I’ve got anything to say.
That may be a lie. A little lie. A little white lie. But a lie nonetheless. I do have things to say. Plenty to say. Maybe I should stay here and say it.
Because then I’d still be writing.
I’d be writing here, instead of what I should be working on, but I’d be writing nonetheless.
And given that I haven’t been writing properly for a long time, so I’m struggling to get back in the habit, and get back in the flow, to find my voice again, maybe that’s not a bad thing. I’ve tried resuming where I left off, but strangely, it seems I’m struggling with long sentences. Strange, I know. Of all the bad habits to pick up, that’s a weird one. It seems like everything I’m writing is being written in sentences of about six or seven words, possibly for impact. And when I try to change that and put some longer sentences together, it reads a little more clunkily. Is clunkily a word? Can I make it a word? There’s a subject for another day: The introduction of words through usage.
I’m writing, again.