It's been a while, I know.I'm staring at a white box, empty in more ways than one. I don't know what to say.
It's all inside me, hiding. Pushed down, layered up. Preparing for the harsh, frigid days ahead.
I write. I erase. It's a vicious cycle.
I don't know what I'm trying to express, say.. longer words with the same meaning.
I want to fly. I want to stay, and maybe for the wrong reasons.
I feel cheated and incompetent.
I'm sick of staring at this white box as if it were my reality. I'm sick of numbing the empty pain of absence with this less-than-filling dollar menue equivalent: It's nice while your chewing but leaves you feeling greasy and disgusting.
I want to paint the stars not view the gallery.
There has to be more than this. More than this. mo re tha nthi s. m oret hant his.
Some people drink. Some people smoke.
This is social, physical and mental destruction.