Saturday Dec 18, 2004

0
when did i stop creating and breathing life into things?
where did my incredible potential go?
when did i become altogether melancholy?
when did i become stagnant?
when did that become ok?

i didn't even get to become a slovenly drunk, a patron at the local bar, where everyone would whisper behind my back about the lovely things i used to create, but then my whole family perished in a barn fire and i lost the use of the right side of my face due to shock and heartbreak.

i don't have an excuse.

i'm just a waste.
ox45:
You think you can just rush in here and post 5 journal entries in 2 days, do ya? Oh shit, I guess you just did. Well... for some reason, it just doesn't seem right. And about your melancholy venting... Psshh. You're just a wee lass. Wait 'til you really do spend all your time at the local bar. That's when you'll know the true meaning of Christmas: sitting at home, drinking alone. Hmmmmm.

If you truly have become stagnant, I never smelled anything, if it's any consolation.
addae:
I remember I had the same feeling when I started geting paid to work on movies. Then I realized that the date and time are meaningless as long as it never happend again.

[Edited on Dec 19, 2004 2:07AM]

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