I always wanted to do so well. So precise. I didn't want to write anymore if it didn't make sense. If I could no longer divide it among the groups of time or subject in advance. That gets in my way. That meant I didn't even pick up a pen or notebook anymore. I didn't look at my website again for a month. I stopped writing and thought about it, but it didn't occur to me that I could just write. It's my blog, so who cares? It is a process, and if I select all moments so accurately, nothing spontaneous will arise, and nothing will happen. I was stuck. I didn't want anymore. I thought I couldn't do it anymore.

Until yesterday, I suddenly thought, "But I can post anything I want on it. I don't have to control myself like that." I set myself free because only then can I write. The words will come again. They will speak again. I know what I want, and if I let myself be carried with the currents, all the inspiration and the flow will come.