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The writing process
My mind is blank.
As blank as a piece of paper in my notebook.
I have the words I need to construct something, but I don’t have the blueprints.
I sit here hoping something will spark my mind, but nothing happens.
I type, I delete, and this repeats.
It repeats itself like a song stuck in my head.
I look out the window hoping something will inspire me.
I look out and see the same old mossy branch.
With Leaves, yellow and orange, falling off the tree.
I don't like this.
I guess I should just delete and repeat.

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My name is Steven, and I play soccer.