mo re tha nthi s.

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.