Okay, so I have not blogged for the past couple of days. Is it because I have nothing to say? No, it's because I'm tired of being so philosophical. When I was a kid I LOVED creative writing. I would write just because. I remember when Sears would have displays of word processors. I would get bored as Mom was shopping for who knows what so I would find the word processors and type away. I would make up a story just for fun. I would giggle as I walked away imagining the person coming ever so innocently upon a story about the man who got his finger stuck up his nose, or whatever I decided to write that day.
It used to come so easily. Now, however, it seems that if there is no purpose behind it I have a hard time bringing myself to do it. Where does that come from? Where has my whimsy gone? How do I get it back? I think it may have gone with my brother when he left. Alright, God. I think you are either going to have to bring my brother back or bring me someone like him because life without whimsy is not a good thing.
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