Our lovely and brilliant creativity has met a most unbecoming fate.
She is dying.
The suspect, it seems, is a succubus, using her vitality and strength in adversity against the unsuspecting among us.
We erode, our minds blank.
We can’t remember usernames or passwords. Please help us!
What time is it? Does time matter in limbo? It does matter. There is an app to help us understand, to start, to keep on track.
It’s hard when it is only around the world and 24 hours. Time puzzles away my creativity and I’m stumped.
How do I post?
Cutting and pasting seemed the preferred method.
The personal preference is draft and publish.
What in the world of creativity does tags and prompts have to do with anything?
The pen slips in, just a little deeper. The slicing silence sickening. Think.
Happy and encouraging Facebook posts are counterintuitive to the surrendering to the solitude of death.
If you quit, are you still in the group? Do you exist differently.
Give me a sign!