Blockhead

I’ve hit a creative block.

In the midst of some upheaval and confusion, I’ve found myself unable to express much of anything. My brain is fatigued. On top of that, my primary tool — my laptop — is uncooperative.

It would be easy to shut down and play another day.

I’d rather scrape for what I can get, crawling through a mental field of broken glass and burning cinders. There is little in the well, but I must drink.

What else can I do?

This is what I have to give, so I must, regardless of how small.

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