I’m starting to think that my writing skills only come back when i’m on the road to depression and total self-destruction. It’s almost as if whenever i’m happy i suffer the worst kind of writer’s block. Anyways, at least i can write now without deleting and rewriting and deleting and rewriting…
Have you ever tried to play it safe, for everybody’s sake but your own? I think i’m doing that a lot these days. That brings us back to my sad reality of always being scared of the inevitable (if only that would make stuff not happen)
Anyways, i might be writing a lot now. Until this heart-wrenching sadness goes away. Who would believe i don’t know anyone i can openly talk to about my problems right now, not that i’m used to that. It would be nice though…


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