Shame

I made a big life decision today. So I tore open a new notebook, promising to write again. Then I look to my shelf

A library of false, quarter written , promises. I’ve felt it, the emptiness, without having written words. Like a heavy heart, I felt an ache to pour out my emotions on a page, but the excuses came

I’m too busy, I’m working too much, I’m mentally fatigued. All of these excuses. 

Shame. It’s been a year since my last post. Will I wait another year? 

Or will I Fucking do it already. 

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