I woke up this morning, dragged myself out of my cosy camper bed, to sit out in the cold, because I felt the urgent pulling need for a sit on my own.
A sit to write in.
And now I am here.
I don’t know what needs to come out. Something does. I can feel it. Pushing out against my skin, put pressure on every single atom of me. There is an urge so strong that I am sitting here writing frantically, desperately trying to drag it out of me.
What is it? What am I trying to say? What needs to come out?
I can feel it slipping away, dissipating inside me as I watch birds flit over the Scottish fell.
* I wrote this last week whilst camping in Scotland. It kinda captures the pull of writing, the pull of being on my own. And the agony when the writing slips away *
Yes, yes, yes! I’m so glad to see someone else talking about this feeling! It drives me mad sometimes because it is so strong and I KNOW I need to write something but it just refuses to show itself and then goes away.
I hope we can learn how to catch these little rebelious writing birds
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It is so frustrating isn’t it! Happens to me so often that I get these ideas or feelings that I need to write and then I sit down to write and…poof! Gone! I have tried writing down my ideas as prompts for later. And then I forget to look at them…
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