You’ve been thinking that it had been a painfully long time since you’d put pen to paper, finger to keys, thoughts to words.

You’ve been thinking it on and off for a few months actually, not that it had prompted any action so far.

You’ve been thinking that what you have written recently has all been very similar – poems, fairly depressing poems.

You’ve been thinking that you should really try and stretch yourself, push yourself, develop yourself.

You’ve been thinking that you probably have a lot more to say than you’ve been saying, but you’re not sure how to say everything in the right way.

You’ve been thinking you need something to be the kindling for your match.

You’ve been thinking the new year might be it.

You’ve been thinking you ought to stop hoarding beautiful notebooks out of fear that you could never fill them with anything as beautiful.

You’ve been thinking of starting by collecting everything you’ve written so far.

You’ve been thinking it’s not such a steep slope once you start climbing.

You’ve been putting pen to paper, finger to keys, thoughts to words.


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