Tonight, I don’t have beautiful things to write. I’ve a glass of Scotch in my hand and an ear vibrating from a cat’s purr. The words aren’t coming the way I want them to, anyway. They are halting and boring and clumsily misbehaving monsters. I should have known better. Why did I even try? They never mind me when I am out of sorts or blue. Words know when you are in no shape to order them into neat, poetic arrangements. They are intuitive to emotion, and easily scared away. The opposite of cats, really.
A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea.
Not just a blog, a philosophy
A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea. 
Love this one!
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Thank you, Momma!
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I usually reach for more scotch when the graceful words aren’t flowing (but maybe that’s why I have a dinosaur theme blog?) This blog post is pretty though! Stick with it, lady. It will happen. Xo
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I limited myself to one glass of Scotch! I was good. I actually didn’t have writer’s block (I rarely do). I simply find it too difficult to write when I am not mentally in the game. I wasn’t last night, and it showed in my efforts. We’ll see what mood I am in tomorrow. Thanks for the kind words.
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Actually, you wrote beautiful, poetic words after all.
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Thank you so much, Judy!
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Haha, love the last sentence! 😀
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‘Tis true!
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“They are intuitive to emotion, and easily scared away.” I’ve never thought about it in those terms before, but you are right.
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I had never thought of it that way, either, until I had an epiphany whilst trying to write when feeling overly emotional. That is when it hit me.
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