Sometimes I want to write just to feel the words flow, to capture a thought like bugs in amber to turn and hold to the light. Sometimes I want to simply let ideas take wing and shape words into things no one has seen before. Sometimes, oh sometimes it's like a hunger that clutches and cries, and I can feel words batting in gossamer-winged legions against the shutters of my mind.
Aye, but I also know that once words take shape, there is alway, always the work of it, the slaving and shaving and struggle of it. And that's the hardest part to endure.
~ P.S. No, I'm not dead, merely resting. *G*