for a proper moment there I figured I forgot to write. I mean, write-write. as can happen as per usual, I didn’t think that I believed I had dried up this bad before, lost all of my seen-to-be skills. but then, again, I took a breather and realised I was just as interested in learning about my process at hand even when I wasn’t anywhere near a page of any sort. and what’s more, it was of equal value for me that way. reassuring and relieving all in one fell swoop. it’s a lot of things, really. but basically the talent, or inane skill set, whichever you might wish to call it, that part isn’t something that you work for. sure you can coax it back to the fore again, but you can certainly also watch it distastefully disappear at the drop of a hat. it’s the part you don’t really get to entirely connect with, I guess. the recent days of writing for me had been, I assumed, far slower, but then, yet again, I have somehow managed to also create perhaps.. seven or eight strong poem-pieces over that particular course of time! but they still feel way better and more magical on my reading them back a few minutes after the piece has been finished rather than days, weeks later. forget about months! more chance of convincing me to take up.. badminton. I think I am still trying to fix onto that ‘inane talent’, trying to coax it far more and toward novella prose form. won’t be easy, but neither was it easy when I was sat at a desk at the age of ten adamant that I could get to where I am right now, writing style-wise. it still needs to be some kind of theatre, that’s for sure. novella writing or prose feels far too lacking in opportunity regard a writer’s reader really getting to know their truest skill set. it’s more so about the talent of storytelling, and whenever it does try and get literary-bent it gets torn to shreds anyhow, or at best plaudited in decades away.