I know what it means, yet I couldn’t help slipping into my usual mood. 28 to Create, Day 20 – Apple of my eye
*** Apple of my eye or a pear no more illusions or expectations I have no soft skills and positively no hopes Apple of my eye, my precious, my only one The one I need and crave to have although it’s bitter as the analgin I would take for each third headache.
These days, I’ve been thinking of not writing anymore. It’s true, other authors’ activity somewhat depresses me. They manage to write, share, submit, get published, get liked, etc. in such short terms. Success around makes me feel more insignificant than I actually am. From time to time someone would ask me what happened to my book/my poetry writing/my publishing plans and intentions. I mumble in response like an idiot. I don’t even know how I decided to check the prompt sites today.
Carry On Tuesday hit the mark with Midway in Life’s Journey – a topic so sad and bitter, that the following simply poured over the paper. No tears, just words. I have no power for tears anymore.