I apologize, deeply. My absence from here has been too glaring. I didn’t forget about my blog, life didn’t take over and distract me from writing. On the contrary, daily I’d come on and read blog posts, and try and fail to produce a story. The stories somehow have managed to run dry, like a river in drought. Moreso, the urgency with which I once wrote is no longer as urgent. Writing has become a thing of complacence for me and I wonder why, not really. I understand why. I wrote to overcome a really tough time in my life. A time of heartbreak, life changes, separation and readjustment. Writing was an escape and a fix from/for all that. That’s the reason I feel I’ve been failing at it, because it was a remedy for a sad time. I realize, I can’t write as a remedy if there is nothing to be remedied. Truthfully, this is a happy time for me. So, it makes no sense for me to write to escape when in all reality I should revel in these moments. I’m trying to write to reflect happiness, and joy and blinding light. But I’m learning to do so, and learning takes it’s toll and time. The stories come in stutters and hiccups now, but in due course maybe we’ll experience a surging river of beautiful magic. Hang on for me, my stint as a “writer” isn’t quite over yet.