I find myself in front of my computer with an empty white plat right before me and an appetite for sour candy. I also find myself unsatisfied with my last philosophy 101 essay. I thought it would be more than this, this is so simple and to the point. My professor, he likes things that are shorter and to the point and i find that this is exactly it; short and to the point. Open ended questions are so hard to me, i am not easily pleased with myself so i am critical to myself. Quite destructive really.
I also find myself awake, thought it is 1:49 a.m. and a few months ago i would be easily found snoozing under my covers. This is so because i have gotten so used to not sleeping untill3 or 4 in the morning, thanks Jenny; i love you.
it's all worth it though, i love her and i love talking to her.
Duke Ellington and John Coltrane are having a conversation in the background, as i type, they are speaking of inspiring things. Every time i stop to listen they speak of something different, never the same thing twice. I suppose they are in a sentimental mood.
I have a lot of things to write about, but my fingers are telling me no.
They've slid a tall brick wall to my head, and have molded it to surround my brain, and have reinforced the left side with some type of metal i suppose.
They think i should wait, so I'll respect their decision -- what other choice do i have?
I guess this is just me saying to you, i have writers block.
Thanks a lot fingers, thanks a whole lot.