This picture has nothing to do with this post. It just makes me giggle.
You're supposed to write everyday. How impossibly hard that is when there only seems to be one thing living inside you with any kind of voice. When the only thing your heart and mind want to talk about is love, eventually your hands get tired of hearing it. They don't want to write about love everyday. So you try to cultivate sadness in a place where you've finally found peace, just to have something to write about. Necessity may be the mother of all creation, but when the necessity is just simply to create, than the mother gives birth only to herself....and what a bloody mess that is.