The end of silence?

Six months of silence. Six months of only scattered showers of self-expression, which was then kept just between myself and my dying Mac.  Six months of running too fast for my thoughts to catch up, believing I have nothing worthwhile to say. Pushing away the sparks of ideas that quickly pass through my consciousness, just asking to be elaborated on.  Six months of trying to make things happen, rushing to and fro, fretting about how slow or nonexistent my income is. Half a year. It doesn’t seem possible, but it is. And now that my fingers are gracing the keys once again, my heart realizes what I’ve been missing out on. The things that have been swimming around are becoming clearer, the definition sharper, the threat smaller. So here we go again. Yet another cycle of silence has hopefully come to an end.