"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection." Anais Nin

Perhaps I am spreading myself too thin. 
 
I keep two journals...one under my bed that has been the undoing of many relationships, and one I carry in my bag with me everywhere.   Lately I have been neglecting both, which loosely means, really, that I have been neglecting myself.  Again.  Or, still?  I write of what I think I know, but actually it is more of what I do not know.  I feel uninspired, stressed, used up.  I said I was going to do so much and have accomplished so little in the past four months.  Big plans deflate easily with muse and distraction.  How much of that is circumstance and how much is free will?
 
There were always in me, two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.  -Anais Nin