I don't know what my words are doing. I sit before a blank page, willing words onto it.
But they are all stopped up inside me. How do you say it? Blogstipation.
Half the time I can't stop them. They bounce around in my head, like unruly brats hungry for dinner. They wail lustily at me, eyes scrunched up, tugging at my shirt-sleeves.
Begging for attention.
Other times... they're more like sullen teenagers hiding in their rooms with headphones on. Refusing to come join the rest of the family. Moping and rude, ignoring chores and shirking responsibilities.
Ungrateful words. I'm grounding you. No TV for a month!