from the desk of CamiKaos...

I'm having trouble writing the past month or so and I've thought of plenty of reasons why, but most of them are bull.  Most of them have no meaning.  No reality.

They are excuses.

Except one.

One is a real honest to goodness reason.  One is the truth.  One speaks volumes about who I am... what I'm like...

My laptop is broken.

Now don't get me wrong, it's not that I have some unexplained emotional connection or love hate relationship with my cursed laptop (this is the 2nd time I've had to send it to the manufacturer).  It's just that without the laptop...

My laptop...

I can not write the way I am accustomed to.  Sure I'm sitting here with keys in front of me typing away, but I'm sitting at the desk in the loft.

I don't write here.  I don't live here.

Normally I curl up in my big soft bed nestled into pillows with my laptop atop my lap.

There I can write.  There I can think.  There I can dream with my eyes and heart wide open...

Where do you write?