Moribund. A pretty fantastic word. I first came across it at the ripe old age of 21 at the one creative writing class that I audited at university. Topic: "The feeling you get when moribund". Clueless.
I wrote a two page essay about how I felt about not knowing what it felt like to write about a word I didn't understand.. perhaps this was similar to the feeling you get when moribund. It was. I am sure if I discovered that piece of paper today, I would regard it as sheer genius.
Much unlike this piece of literature I'm adding to the wordfill.
Forced. I only write when something deserved being felt strongly about. At the moment there is none. I'll test the theory that just restarting the process of writing might at some point trigger the appetite to find things that are worthy of the word.
Here goes nothing 'quite literally'.