Must Feed the Beast

I finally figured out why I haven't been writing, why I've been procrastinating about everything so much.

I haven't been reading. Other than flipping through a very occasional magazine in Turkish, the only thing I've read in the past six months is a booklet on how to buy an oriental carpet.

I'm on vacation in NYC. Today is the first jet-lagged morning and I was able to spend it with yesterday's Sunday New York Times. Pure heaven.

I will finish this post and make a list of what I want to get at Strand later today.

I realize I have to feed the beast.

Without thought-provoking articles written by others, or dialogue's imagined for my entertainment, monologues in which I learn new ways of expressing myself and analyzing others, without the printed word, I seem to lack the inspiration I need to write, to function, to produce. I need to feed the beast and I can't think of a better place to do this in than in NYC, on vacation, for a week.