I used to love writing about fictitious characters. Most of them are inspired by my friends' personality, triggered by strong emotional feelings. If there's something I'd like to say, but just don't have good enough guts to, I say it through a story.
Ten months ago, I could write stories on a daily basis. Writing has become my way of releasing stress. Now I've been wondering where all my inspiration went?
I've considered a few explanations for this. One is that maybe I've been honest lately, and that writing fiction stories has been my way of concealing the truth.
Or maybe I've lost that inspiration.
Or maybe I've found my writer's block, and simply couldn't write anymore.
(I guess I just missed the writing side of me...)
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