Over a year since I’ve journaled here.
Since I’ve written this way.
Since I’ve been truly pensive, reflective.

For life has had ups, downs, all arounds.
Still does, always will.
I don’t fear the blank page, I only lose momentum.

Energy depleted, though inspiration sustained.
Seems a contradiction,
Yet rational to me.

The pen always at my side,
My hand not always willing to write.
How can I make it so?

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