Ink pouring trough my fingers

When time goes by like water down the river, and I’ve not written a line of anything meaningful (besides the million emails that goes by every week) in such a long time, there is a feeling that starts to happen at my fingertips… It’s like black ink trying to get out of them, liters and liters of it, just for the sake of saying something, anything.

Many times it’s walking or driving or just staring the horizon out from my window. Those times are the ones that an iPhone (with ia’s Writer) would make sense.

It’s hard to tell what they want to say, as Stephen King says On Writing, it’s something you must practice every day not only to improve but to not loose the ability. I’ve been part of the second group for a long time now, we probably need to get acquainted again.