A concerned armpit

Where has it gone?

Once my life seemed to be awash with opportunities to write. I wrote letters, and songs, and even directionless rambles. When I sat down in front of my keyboard or with my guitar, I felt a need to talk, a need to share my thoughts with the world. I felt that things needed to be said, lest they be lost forever.

Nowadays, I don’t get that anymore, and I don’t know whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Clearly I no longer have the same fear that the product of my creativity will be lost forever. Which is nice. But it is nice to have songs, letters, directionless rambles, which can immortalise these thoughts forever and provide me with an archive.

This thought tails away.