Nomad Writer

Am I still welcome here? That’s a strange question to ask. This is my blog, but I picture it as a room within the halls of an endless mansion that I share with faceless others. One that is now unfamiliar to me because of how long I’ve been gone. And this room no longer bears the markings of what made it my own. My writing is still here, yes. Like engravings on the walls. But even that seems foreign – as if I never wrote any of these things. As if they came from a place that never existed within me. That’s the disconnect that keeps me standing at the threshold – lingering within the corridor as if awaiting some sort of permission to enter this room again.