I am ever torn.

I want to keep all of my ideas in one place, with me always.

But I get itchy when I think about beginning a new story, a new journey, a new topic, in a notebook that is dedicated to something else.

I want to travel light, but I can’t seem to confidently leave the house with less than six books, two (or is it three?) bags, and my laptop and my phone and all the subsequent chargers.

I want to see my words in my own handwriting, but it slows me down and distracts me with errors.

I have been advised to consider blogging less, to embrace the ideas of Less is More,
Quality over Quantity,
Authors Write Books not Blogs,
Disappear for a While,
Create a Hunger,
Leave Them Wanting More.
I want to follow the paths of those who have gone before, the greats who blaze the trails,
But I can’t seem to break a daily dialogue of seven years.

I want to pour into others, but I want to be alone.

I want to rest, but I don’t want to sleep.

I am ever torn.

%d bloggers like this: