The clock is laughing in my face...

Every night, I lay in bed and -stare- at my notebook, and try to write something. I wind up writing trivial bullshit, because nothing comes to me.

When did I get like this?
I used to be unable to -stop- myself from writing.


I write these half-assed stories, now.
I write less than that, for entries.

On my own... here we go.


I wonder if you realize.
and I wonder if I care, whether or not you do.