Dry Spell

WILL I WRITE AGAIN?

I do not know. So, Rip, what are you doing now, and why? How silly it seems to write about not writing, like talking about not talking.

I write now to see if jumping in the water inspires any writing that may be in hiding. It has before, but so far, nothing now. I seriously question if I will have anything come to mind worth saying.

NO, I am not attempting to “poor me” you, attempting to persuade you into giving me encouragement. That would be a superficial, even phony endeavor.

So, here I sit, waiting for the Muse to stir.

— — —

Nothing yet. I’ll not take this moment of doubt and dramatize it with, “Goodbye, my friends”. It may not, I hope not, be “goodbye”. But, we will see. It could be. I may have said it all already. I am a shallow cup, perhaps emptied out. Only the Muse can refill me, and that is up to Her.

No. If I have nothing more to originate myself, I will certainly be responding to your writings, so I’ll not be disappearing into the sunset under any circumstances, except perhaps graduation from this role I play as Rip Parker in this current drama. Optimism does not anticipate that anytime soon, but again, who knows?

— — —

It seems the Daughters of Zeus are dancing with other partners. I understand. I have greatly enjoyed their company, freely given, undeserved. I am grateful.

For the future, Che’ Sara, Sara (my thanks to wonderful Doris Day). No regrets, take it as it comes. It is all good, even, perhaps especially, the silence.

— — —

Please, my friends, keep your wisdom flowing. I am enjoying reading Medium, and continuing to learn, continuing to dialogue with you regarding your thoughts.