Indefinite

I started writing a very lengthy piece exploring a certain aspect of my personality: I reserve the right to walk out on anything.

I deleted all the text and started fresh, and went on for another substantial volume, then deleted most of that.

It occurs to me that I have been suffering writer's block for about two years. Also, I don't like the way I write anymore. Those facts are probably associated somehow.

Still, words are the weapon of choice. I like writing. And I fancy myself a writer.

I suppose writing is something I walked out on for a bit.

How fortunate that it does not press me with a deluge of questions 'pon my return. How thankful I am that among those questions that aren't being asked is "Are you back for good."