| Gimme some rum please |
[24 Jul 2003|04:18pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 frustrated |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Willa Ford - Jokes on You |
] |
It's impossible to find a decent looking bikini nowadays. Nothing fits right and everything is so god damned expensive. i don't wanna spend 100 and some odd dollars for a piece of material that doesn't even cover half of my body, exposes my cleavage, and is gonna get ruined cause of the salt water. Summer is almost over and I refuse to spend that kind of money. Maybe it's just me? Maybe I'm really a cow. Ugh.
For some reason a lot of the things I used to enjoy doing aren't pleasurable anymore. I can't seem to find pleasure in those things. What I would really love to do, is gain all my motivation back and write a novel. That's what I would love to do. Just lately, any task I start I can't seem to complete. my determination is hidden somewhere in some pothole and every single time it tries to creep out some car squishes it back in there. I've sat at my computer screen for hours, even outside on my backporch for hours with a pen and paper in hand but nothing. I have the world's biggest case of writers block. Writing used to come so naturally to me. I barely had to try but now it's like I'm forever searching for new ideas, creativity, and for god sakes it seems impossible for me to elaborate on one thought and one thought only. I look at my paper and all I see are run on sentences, scattered ideas, and hell I don't even know where the damn story is going. I need to breath. Where has my patience, dicipline, and determination gone? Maybe if I stop trying to look for it it'll come back.
|
|