Joronas Temnra

2004-04-19 21:46:40 (UTC)


It's strange how little I write now.. it used to be my
passion, but now it's almost an afterthought. I wrote daily
once.. for several months, just thoughts.. words. I wrote
nightly a few years later.. words and thoughts.. magic and
mysteries. Dreams.

I wrote stories once.. I wrote myths and legends, the
history of one of the shadowed figures of a world not our
own. The life of a blade. The forging of the hand of the
darkness.. the bloody hand. I wrote the ending of a war that
spanned thousands of years. But writing is difficult now,
even when I dream. And yet I still seem to be able to, when
I try. But something is missing.. the want. The burning
desire to.

words on a screen.. why do they mean so much to me?