Take my hand someone and force it to write something.

Tonight's one of those unfortunate times when I'm writing less for the love of it, and more for the fact, I just want to see some words unroll across the screen, or my day will not feel right

Guess this is how sharks are supposed to feel; keep swimming or stop forever. Keep writing or the blog withers away. That's always been my worry. Some days the words pour out, other's it's a baleful trickle.

I have to put something down. These fingers need to flex and write the words they want to not feel themselves mastered by the demands of work and the office. Yet, tonight, I'm out of ideas. Even last night's quiet panic about an impending birthday is n't strong enough to morph into sentences. It's still there. I still have it. Just I can't articulate it.