unsure...

I used to write... it was a passion once, and I had imagined getting consumed by the quest to learn, experience and write. In interviews and all whenever someone would ask me my hobby I would go on to say reading and writing, and to the next obvious question as to what I did write pat would come the reply Poetry. Nope I was no poet, just someone who figured a rhyme scheme and words that further rhymed, put 2 n 2 together and strung and soliloquy at times worth print, at times trash but yet it gave me freedom and yes it was worth saying in those interviews.
Been ages since I put pen to paper or keys to a word doc and poured words out in a coherent and meaningful text, maybe its got to do with the fact that there is far too little time and far too much that needs done, or maybe this is just an excuse. Maybe the reason is that I am too judgmental of my own written text than I was earlier, or maybe I am the poet who can pen a broken hearts tale than a happy hearts paean. Regardless of the reason this restless mind and aimless soul needs a stirring, one of note and one that gets the juices flowing again, or maybe I need to stop killing time in things that dont count for nothing and concentrate on what matters. Do what makes me happy...