You know... dA, particularly Adimus, used to be such a home for me. I remember feeling I was finished with a photograph or a story, and this would be my first compulsion, here.

dA was my home page, the first thing I did. I don't often visit anymore. I don't know if I've deleted my friends, or if they all just stopped producing as well, I can't tell.

Regardless, I haven't written since my class ended, that prophecy self-fulfilled like a champ. I don't even feel the urge now, not very strongly.

I always said if I wasn't creating, I wasn't really living. So.. what's this? Am I not really living, or have my values actually changed?

I miss it... I miss it, I miss it. I loved twisting words around my fingers like pieces of hair and pulling. I loved how writing made me feel tied up inside, like I was all open and vulnerable, and assiduously untying knots. Those are great times, you know? How do you go back?

I was hoping I could hold on.