Some days I feel like the blocks just seem to build up faster than I can take them down. And I’m just hoping to stumble upon the right piece to finally clear this wall. But as soon as I do, the blocks start coming again.
Some of the hardest days are ones where I run out of words. And my fears of running out of stories starts haunting me. Because my words aren’t good enough anymore. Some days, I question if they’re even worth reading.