My mind is preoccupied. The moment I set myself down to write my thoughts flee leaving me abandoned and vulnerable to the empty page. A shadow looms in my mind, vague and elusive, and yet somehow persistent. Upcoming events overwhelm and I find I can think of little else. A clash ensues as doubt and anxiety endeavor to oust faith and the assurance of well being. I am merely a bystander watching the resulting battle of my brain. I will be relieved when all has passed and I can reclaim possession of mind.
Until then, my writings may become a bit sparse, as they have been rather lackluster of late.