“One ought, everyday at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture and speak a few reasonable words.” —Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The words had stopped. The spark of creativity is long extinguished. I find it harder and harder to write.
The last book I read was months ago, and it was a biography. Everything seems to just dried up. All I think about is work, the only words I type are for work, and the only items that I strike off my to-do lists are all work related. Why is my life revolving around work?
I need to find fuel for my soul, I need to read, I need to write, I need to ignite the spark of creativity, and find back my passion. Passion for life. A reason to live. Something to make feel me alive.
