I Was Waiting for the Words

I was working on a post, something about the relation of ego to writing, but I erased it. It was turgid and self-conscious.

I think sometimes that silence is the best option.

Really though, it was my own failure that discouraged me. I came in trying to write, wanting to write, and I failed.

But tomorrow is another day.

In the meantime, let's ask an old Irishman to weigh in:

"Youth has an end: the end is here. It will never be. You know that well. What then? Write it, damn you, write it! What else are you good for?" (James Joyce)