Day 14 is proving to be the day that has gotten the best of me. It has taken my somewhat creative mind and robbed it of all sufficient writing ability. Gone is the process of taking an idea that becomes the first sentence that becomes the first paragraph to build off of in a gushing, fluid motion. Perhaps a poem, then? No, Day 14 has taken all the rhythmic words as well, and will not release them. “Use some old material,” the Day says, “No,” I say, “I won’t do that.”
Day 14 is a rather mean day, at least to me. Cold, windy and blank.