Inside: a few sparks for the dark days—writer’s block remedies and the things inspiring me lately.
Dear Atticus,
Thank you for naming what so many of us feel but struggle to say aloud.
For turning silence into something sacred, not shameful.
For reminding us that the muse is not gone—only gone wandering, and sometimes, we must wander too.
Your words are not just ink and insight.
They are permission—to be human, to be hollow sometimes,
to write badly, boldly, beautifully—
and to breathe between the lines when the words don’t come.
That Paulo Coelho quote? You paired it perfectly.
Yes, when we truly want something,
the universe leans in—but so must we.
So from one soul with ink-stained fingers to another:
Thank you for the light you chase and the shadows you honor.
This piece was not just a post; it was a mirror—
and I saw myself in it.
Gratefully,
Terod Naej
Dear Atticus,
Thank you for naming what so many of us feel but struggle to say aloud.
For turning silence into something sacred, not shameful.
For reminding us that the muse is not gone—only gone wandering, and sometimes, we must wander too.
Your words are not just ink and insight.
They are permission—to be human, to be hollow sometimes,
to write badly, boldly, beautifully—
and to breathe between the lines when the words don’t come.
That Paulo Coelho quote? You paired it perfectly.
Yes, when we truly want something,
the universe leans in—but so must we.
So from one soul with ink-stained fingers to another:
Thank you for the light you chase and the shadows you honor.
This piece was not just a post; it was a mirror—
and I saw myself in it.
Gratefully,
Terod Naej