A Something That Points To Somewhere I Don't Wish To Go

~That morning the sky possessed the quality of blue that assured me the day had infinite possibilities. Coupled with the cool breeze it seemed more than my senses could take. I don't know why I didn't get to my feet and march off into the world to do something productive. For the moment, I chose to give in to the the invisible anchor that tethered me to that place. I wasn't sure which I preferred, familiar captivity or new found freedom. They both held an inexplicable allure. I felt as if I had won the lottery. I had the means to do anything I wanted but was paralyzed by the notion that if I set out to do anything I would be overtaken by unknown evils that I was certain were lurking.~

There ya have have it. A beginning of something, words on a page..... This is the type of thing I am tortured by. The other day I actually sat down and wrote part of a chapter of a something (beginning with the above). The trouble I had was that it was emotionally hard. I find that every time I try to write something the same emotions are underneath of it. I can write short stuff with levity, but when I try for a real story, something to actually be developed, the same emotions bubble up. That's frustrating. I feel like the key to my literary freedom is to actually put the time in (it could be years) to write the story that's stuck in there. It's the story of my life. Then I can move on to other stuff.

BLICK! I don't want to do it.