In absentia

I remembered on Sunday right before I went to bed, the computer off and the air conditioning purring. I woke up yesterday, determined to say something, anything, and in fact wrote a whole paragraph which is now lost. Deleted. I have never done that before - intentionally destroyed a whole piece that was essentially done. I am not sure if I should feel ashamed at my lack of courage or pleased that I could so rationally distance myself from something I had written. I find it harder and harder to let posts like that one exist, even this one is hard to be sure of. The writing is just not there - not the way I want it to be - purely busywork. My lack of enthusiasm ends up being demonstrated by my Candide-like attitude which I hate; coming from such a narcissistic writer you know that something really terrible was there. I am not sure what the solution is. Clearly I write better when I have something I very strongly wish to say, but to come up with something like that every day is a serious challenge. It is also harder than I expected, coming back into a life where my presence and attention matter to someone else at almost every moment. A life where I am needed and in companionship, not bored and lonely. I suppose that was the void I was writing for. Now that is has gone, where do I send these words?