When all the ways in which I can know myself feel one way, but my days are clearly void of a thing which feels so big…
and when I consume terabytes of data from outside thoughts and thinkers and so much newsy news…
and it isn’t enough to fill the space between and make a bridge back…
it brings me to the moment, when I’m surprised and struggle to compute the last time I wrote words here wasn’t 5 months ago, but a year and 5 months ago. Stuck, pretty thoroughly it seems.

You, sir, are stuck, a wedged bear, in a great tightness. in a word, irremovable

Owl. Winnie the Pooh & the Honey Tree (1966)