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this old photo depicts what i imagine my soul would look like thrusting itself toward spring.

while i tend to like a little rain and typically don’t mind the mild winters here, these endless days of rainless, fog-covered skies are sort of sucking my creative juices dry. staring out at that bright, white sky sort of mimics the paralyzing feeling of staring at a blank page day after day.

feeling a little immobile creatively. gray and still. still.

i just want to *feel like* thrusting myself forth. like these sweet pigeons. hoping the urge will come soon.

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