Sometimes I worry that I will wake up one day, and all the inspiration I have will be dried up. That somehow, all of it will disappear into thin air. My thoughts, my dreams, my reality.
Much of my poetry is based upon experiences I have, and without those experiences the poetry never would have come to be. I am afraid that I will stop having experiences that compel me to write. Honestly, and this is more frank than I usually am on this blog, I write more during times of pain or suffering in my life. Being compelled to write because of a need for a coping mechanism is much easier than just sitting down and writing when my life is great. I am not sure that the pieces I produce are better when I am emotionally distraught, but the volume of work produced is much greater when I am having a tough time. I guess it could be that it is just easier to be reminded to write when it is an absolute need rather than a pastime. Luckily, I know by now, even though I have not lived for very long(relatively speaking) that life is always hard. Always. That doesn't mean there isn't happiness or sunshine, it just means there are constantly battles to be won and fights to be fought. Which means my silly concern that I will lack inspiration is really just that: silly.
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