Hello, new year.
This space has not been forgotten. It has been neglected. Isn't it ironic the longer I work as a writer, the less I believe I can write?
Coming here used to be my catharsis. To speak unencumbered. To make colourful little mistakes and ridiculously senseless things. But now I feel the words gag in my throat. Am I starting this sentence right? How could I poeticise this better? Is poeticise a thing, a word?
Who in the world am I even accountable to now?
Stop being such a coward, Natalie. You answer to one. The new year has begun. Come back and be better. It's an exciting time to be in. (:
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