Usually August offers the promise of new beginnings, but I don't feel that way this year. It seems as if my stories rehash all of the old themes, and I'm getting tired of that. I just don't feel that I have anything new to say. The well is dry, thoroughly empty. Parched. No answers, only questions.
Maybe the start of the writing class at the Center will inspire me anew. Or, maybe it's just today, the mood I'm in at the moment. Whatever it is, sometimes I feel as if my writing just doesn't matter any more. But if that's the case, what does matter? What makes a difference and gives me life? Food for thought? Or, something to write about...?