You know that feeling you get when you go into a room to find something and suddenly you can’t remember what it is that you’re looking for? That’s how I feel most days now. Except the room is a city that changes every several nights and I’m not desperate to find anything just yet. Just looking – eyes wide, searching for something I can’t describe.

Or how about the feeling you get when a word is on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t find the right syllables necessary to make it come out. That’s how I feel about writing. Like I’ve got a million things to say and they’re all on the edge of spilling out of my mouth but I haven’t figured out a way to say them out loud.