Not going to lie; writting again has been the best decision I've made in a long time. Also, my willingness to write again and inspiration came back with such a perfect timing. The world is dying, hope's draining from people's eyes, and I don't want to think about it. It pains me to no end, seeing numbers going up every single day, seeing people glancing back at me with sadness and wistfulness. I'm so tired of it, but I can't do nothing about it, and that single stament being made in here makes me feel so blue again.
So that's why I went back to writting about love, desires, and cravings: I want to escape my reality yet again, making up reasons to think about something else for the rest of the day, and the other, and the other before the last. Don't get me wrong, my darlings are no excuse, and they're always on my mind, on my heart, making my body ache with longing and shudder in anticipation. They're with me always on my skin, always close, not just for a brief poem or a short story. They make me happy and give me butterflies when I most need them. They remember me to be better, and to not let this hard time get on my best features. They inspire me, they are flawless in their imperfect natures.
They're so delighting.
I prefer to keep writting about them than to write about the dark sides of this world.