I have been feeling disoriented this autumn, out of place and time. I had been making attempts to write something since the beginning of October but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't do it. And what made it even worse was the guilt I felt for not being able to pull myself out of it.
In a way, that was exactly the problem: there wasn't anything *I* could do to orient myself, to place myself in time and place again.
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