You can do anything you put your mind to.....

Why no writing, no phone calls, no emails, no photos, no art. “You don’t bring me flowers, anymore”.

Too many voices, too many demands, too many hopes and dreams shattered on a daily basis. I’m tired of talking to myself and I’m tired of listening. Shit, this is not what I want to be doing, not where I want to be. The harder I try the worse off I am. It has become blatantly obvious, blatantly, definitely it is me. Or is that, “it is I”. SICK. I am digging my own grave.

Lonely (too corny )

Depressed (overused)

I should get a Facebook account.





                  ...and it will take you anywhere you want to go.