in a crowded room,
I was hit with a bout of inspiration in the car. I was going to dredge up an old, ongoing project. I was going to perfect my art. I scrambled for paper and pen, but there was none to be found. I was forced to wait.
When I arrived at my room, ballpoint and notebook in hand, it dawned on me. the inspiration was gone. it was beautiful in my head, but nothing was all that made the transition to paper. the image was gone from my mind. I sighed. I was back at square one.
fuck.
When I arrived at my room, ballpoint and notebook in hand, it dawned on me. the inspiration was gone. it was beautiful in my head, but nothing was all that made the transition to paper. the image was gone from my mind. I sighed. I was back at square one.
fuck.