I have taken my writing outside of my home, and into a bookstore. A place full of words. Wonderful words.

I need inspiration, something to kick me back into spilling ink onto the pages of my blog and into the stories that fill my head. To continue writing. Happily, consistently, thoroughly, and contently.

Thoughts about life, stories made of soul, that have been waiting, day after day, to be told, waiting patiently for my enthusiasm to take over, to plaster my pages with heart, have stood still, only for me to know.

So, here I sit, feeling the old feelings climb up and slowly tingle through my fingertips, wanting to express, to feel. To be heard. To be read.

I am embracing the moment. Holding it dear. Letting it take me to where I belong.