A bubble that's about to blow up... or maybe float for a longer while...
I write to live, and live to write; but an old project has left me stranded and I cannot find my way.
Should I follow what drove me to write in the first place? Should I erease that wich is polluting the flow of words and let down those who believed the fraud? or should I bow my head low, swallow my muse's threads and finish the tedious assignment for the strangers who still have faith in me..?
I want to grow and go on... but I feel that if I leave the previous road unfinished, I might falter in the new on as well... I don't want to have to fail twice...
