What is with me? I feel so lethargic...indifferent....uninspired. Strange. Maybe I'm just tired.
I want to write, really. I just can' think of anything brilliant to say.
I was thinking of him the other day...after my encounter with his lookalike last week.
I the rising, glowing moon; he the fading star. Even the moon is scarred. Something along those lines. It could turn out beautifully, if I only had the passion. Celestial references are so cliche though. I need to come up with something a little more obscure. Why does conflict breed inspiration? Life is strange. I'm a stranger to Life.
Comrade Von Pussycat
