I want to write again.
I recently, after feeling quite displeased with my latest composition attempts, decided to read some of my old writings. God, how they bring back good memories, one such; I was sitting on a rather comfortable lawn chair, but not those flimsy white things, more the sort you'd take camping. And I was sat here, not too far from a metal bin, within which was a mix of wood, bit of metal, and general things which were considered good enough to put in, these were all connected by one factor... They were burning at an intense temperature, and melting the underside of said metal bin. Anyway, I digress, I was sat here, feeling rather pensive, looking into the fire with a can of cider in my hand, the first time I'd really drunk it. And I had an idea, about walking in these woods near(ish) where I live. So, I whipped out my phone, and started to write in the notes this story which came to my head. And as I stared into the fire, it progressed, got deeper and darker, and the words kept flowing. I remember I passed the word limit on memos a few times.
At the end of it, quite late into the evening I found myself looking at the best piece of writing I'd ever done, and so far, it's still the best.
Reading that rekindled a love for writing... alas like all things that plague those who want to create, when it comes to fingers on keyboard, there was no inspiration there, no call to write. Maybe I best wait for bonfire night again, or take a very long bus journey, I'll see.