We are sorely, sorely neglected, aren't we?
I just don't ever seem to want to write anymore... I don't ever seem to have the words to write...
I'm afraid I feel pressed to close up shop soon. Unless I can rally myself. Would anyone like to attempt to jostle me into resuscitating my works? I need something...desperately...
Perhaps this is only one of those evil dry spells. The sort where my brain stops functioning. My remedy should be more sleep. But I don't seem to be capable of that. I get to bed earlier, I wake up randomly earlier.
And then my thoughts get stuck and I can't fall back to sleep. But I can't really talk about what my thoughts get stuck on. I really shouldn't have said that they are stuck on anything in the first place.
I think that might actually be my problem. I have sunk to some level where I cannot share a thought or a feeling from myself anymore. I am getting too wrapped up. This must end. Tomorrow, something coherent about what I've been doing lately.
Have no energy for diary writing because it has been directed towards...?
My thoughts cannot flow cohesively tonight.
For the time being, I present you with a poor photograph of my newly acquired composition book. Blasted Wal-Mart had no more black books. So I had to settle for a striped one. Which is, surprisingly enough, growing on me already. I really really like the colors and the pattern. It's so slick and nifty. I think I might really actually like the little design I made for the front too (which I basically ripped off of which I made with a little lot of help from a buddy icon from font-a-licious (ahhh fontalicious, how I wish thee were still updated...). I really fear that I massacred the poor thing in making my journal decoration.
Ahhh well, live and let live. Right?
That makes absolutely no sense there.
I am going mad.
This would be version four, and it has been given the title "As someone somewhere sings about the sky."
And so now, whenever I write, I am hiring a singer to sing about the sky for me to make my title true.
No, I'm kidding. That's stupid and missing the point.
Although, I regret now that I did not name this notebook "...all human wisdom is contained in the words 'wait and hope!'" That would have been far more befitting. But I wanted something different than that which is my msn messenger display name. Just switch it up with something I was planning to use as a display name eventually anyway.
Revenge of the anonymous, ambiguous statement (remember, these are not to be taken at face value...): I'm so poor.
Have epiphanies now. While I hide.
