Kiss of the Octopus.
Something scary has happened to me...
I feel as though I've lost my creativity.
That wasn't meant to rhyme, if you were wondering.
It's difficult to put this particular mentality into words, but the only way I can describe it is "numb".
And the only reason I used that non-descriptive adjective is because I can't think of anything else to describe it.
See what I mean?
I've been sitting here in the dark (that's only because the lamp is broken and the roof is too high in this room for me to change the bulb, but that isn't helping) trying to think of ideas for songs, lyrics and photographs and nothing is coming into my head.
I've been looking at DeviantArt, listening to music to inspire myself but nothing is happening.
My mind is a barren wasteland.
Barren wastelands are known to have the occasional tumbleweed, but it's so barren it doesn't even have tumbleweeds.
That's how barren it is...
I mean, what kind of barren wasteland doesn't have tumbleweeds?
Sorry for over-using the word barren.
Usually this wouldn't worry me, but this is an on-going situation.
And by on-going I mean nearly a month or more.
I have prolonged writer's block and it's scaring me more than I can express.
And that's only because if I tried to express it more, I wouldn't know what to say because I wouldn't be able to articulate my thoughts into anything coherent.
I just hope that this is just a phase and that it'll leave.
And fast.
I'm craving for something new.
I'm craving travel.
I'm craving new people.
I'm craving new environments.
I'm craving unpredictability.
I'm craving responsibility.
And why is it that whenever I write in this journal I feel as though I am being totally self-obsessed and that I'm making a big deal out of a situation that really isn't a situation at all?
I feel as though I've lost my creativity.
That wasn't meant to rhyme, if you were wondering.
It's difficult to put this particular mentality into words, but the only way I can describe it is "numb".
And the only reason I used that non-descriptive adjective is because I can't think of anything else to describe it.
See what I mean?
I've been sitting here in the dark (that's only because the lamp is broken and the roof is too high in this room for me to change the bulb, but that isn't helping) trying to think of ideas for songs, lyrics and photographs and nothing is coming into my head.
I've been looking at DeviantArt, listening to music to inspire myself but nothing is happening.
My mind is a barren wasteland.
Barren wastelands are known to have the occasional tumbleweed, but it's so barren it doesn't even have tumbleweeds.
That's how barren it is...
I mean, what kind of barren wasteland doesn't have tumbleweeds?
Sorry for over-using the word barren.
Usually this wouldn't worry me, but this is an on-going situation.
And by on-going I mean nearly a month or more.
I have prolonged writer's block and it's scaring me more than I can express.
And that's only because if I tried to express it more, I wouldn't know what to say because I wouldn't be able to articulate my thoughts into anything coherent.
I just hope that this is just a phase and that it'll leave.
And fast.
I'm craving for something new.
I'm craving travel.
I'm craving new people.
I'm craving new environments.
I'm craving unpredictability.
I'm craving responsibility.
And why is it that whenever I write in this journal I feel as though I am being totally self-obsessed and that I'm making a big deal out of a situation that really isn't a situation at all?