In a world far from anyone's reach, there is a lonely soul.
And that soul always searches and seeks for a place to call her home.
Oft she searched day and night for a place that's just for her,
But years of wandering gave no light and so she was still lonesome.

"Who needs a home?" she then exclaimed, looking at the world around her.
"The sky's my roof, my friend the rain!" And so she settled down there.
After a week...

What does it take to cure writer's block?
Some are happy to be freed from dizzying ideas and aching fingers,
But to others, it is having your mind caged with unseen figments of reality.
It is understanding a language but forgetting how to speak it.
It is singing the words to a song but you've forgotten the tune.
It is this work, born from a writer's aching head, pounding with creativity that demands freedom.
So how do you cure writer's...