Having trouble describing the feeling, how it seems as though my cup has been inadvertently emptied and I am new again, a fresh piece of paper with a new pen trying to connect thoughts and feelings. The thoughts are there, they keep reeling by. I watch them. I want to record them, but pen and paper are not connecting with those thoughts. The process hasn’t changed, perhaps something inside of me has, perhaps it’s been changing–always changing–this time though the change seems to be causing a gravitation away from writing and that feels strange. A part of me wants to go with this change that has been slowly happening for longer than I realize. A part of me wants to start fresh and jump into the ocean and become lost in a new sea, begin again, and reacquaint myself with the words inside my head.