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ThanksWhen did my inspiration fly south?Thanks by Zaiav
It isn't winter anymore.
Why can’t I gain the excitement I used too, about someone enjoying my work?
Was I faking it all along?
Shouldn't this mean more?
This used to be my life, my escape, my everything.
I have all these ideas.
But when they come through I do not care to see the outcome in the readers.
Instead of connecting, I simply say something useless.
Instead of fighting back against those who dislike I just reply.
No argument in sight.
Didn't I used to care about the few fans I had?
I used to explode with happiness when someone said “I connected with this!”
Now it’s just, a bleak thanks, and I move on.