Hello sunset. This blinking cursor drives me insane. When will you write? Come on. Write something. I won’t stop blinking till you do. Free indirect speech. Jane Austen. Boring. I’m insane. On the verge of giving up. I can’t give up writing.
What’s that song playing in the background? Who cares. It doesn’t inspire me. Maybe I should go for a walk. It didn’t help last time. Nothing helps.
Do you think every human has a certain quota after which he just becomes allergic to things? Different context but fitting. Random quotes running through my head. Pictures of people in front of my inner eye. I don’t recognize them. Poems bad and worse. I want to write one about you.
I don’t recognize myself. On Tuesday we were asked to think about the moment we realized that we had become a different person, an adult. Nobody said anything. Am I the only one who can pinpoint it down to the year, month, day, hour, minute, place? I didn’t say anything. This world is even more different from my own than I thought it was. Something is going incredibly wrong with this one. And I know why I can’t write.
Random thoughts but no ideas. Divorce. First love. How do you write a story for teenagers about that? Probably I won’t. I hit the keys on my keyboard, I type the world away but get nowhere. I write two pages of prose in class and end up without any idea where the story is going, because there is none.
Scribbling away. But I can’t stop writing either. Reading didn’t help. Watching a movie didn’t help. Watching tv didn’t help. Listening to music. Going for a walk. Reading. Going out. Locking myself in my room. Fooling around on Facebook. It’s all leading to nothing. Soon we will be speaking Italian around here. Nothing at all.
I miss you. Oh my God, I miss you so much. And I have no idea how I should tell you I love you.
Somebody get me out into a different world.