Late night Brewing

Now blessing some people’s heart and mind

I decide to stay quiet

Live long, live large, not my business anymore

I’m grown, don’t you ask me

Why am I almost begging?

An attitude, I doubt so
More so self-respect

What’s going on my mind

À lot of things are going on my mind but nothing I want to write about. And it makes me anxious. I used to be passionate about writing, filling notebooks after notebooks with ideas, diary entries, novels. It used to be a way to keep my mind clear, to express my feelings, to put a word on how I feel, help me understand my behavior and now, it doesn’t happen. It’s like a chore, I can barely write a page without being impatient and I almost never come back to any post pending… And it scares me.

Is it a phase? Is it my new way of life? I don’t know but it’s really not reassuring.

Have any of you ever gone through something like this?