our minds are both a curse & a gift.

Sitting down all day and waiting is horrible enough. Sitting down all day and waiting when your brain just can't piece its puzzle of thoughts together? Well my friend, that is hell. Well it's hell for someone who claims to be a writer. It's not that I have been slacking, no no no, I'd never, my brain (the bastard) is just on some kind of unpaid sabbatical and thus I am a blank canvas. Rendered useless, at this particular point in time.

...I sit an empty vessel,

I sit, I sat, in spot.

I sit upon this spot I sat,

Useless is my thinking cap...

You see what I mean! What is that? And so it goes I have had a little love/hate relationship form with my reliable friend Tanqueray Gin, and then there is the whole sleep issue, am I nocturnal? And then! The 'heart issues', anxiety, anti-socialness (contradiction) fear of loneliness, fear of zombie apocalypse, irrational thoughts? Zoning out and just nodding my head...

On the positive side of the spectrum, I've built some pretty special bonds, I've grown/I'm growing, and I definitely still love life and the person that I am shaping into, I even still enjoy my own company when I'm not frustrated at my bastard brain. Although when it's all said and done, I can't shake the feeling that in some sick way I may just enjoy the torture.

I guess I am a writer after all.

&.the.bohemian.girl.xx.