Writer's Block

How can I leave a piece of myself on the page? My thoughts, feelings and anxieties won’t simply boil themselves down into easy to read—easy to write—sentences. It seems it is par for the course for 24 year olds to feel this way; we have zero answers and despite the current that flows against us, we continue to etch our names into the sand. Today’s world seems to have the biggest tides of them all. Tides that wash away who we once were and force us to rebuild from what is left behind, but there is never enough left. Ouroboros. A snake eating its own tail. An endless cycle. If I could parse all the anger, guilt and shame that plagues my mind, I would: shout to the world, demand what’s mine, get right up in their faces, call out their crimes, scream, swear and simply walk away.