I’m not in the mood to write. Haven’t been in the mood for quite some time. That’s probably why there’s so much shit in my head, there’s no outlet for it. I always feel better after I write… clearer. But at the moment it’s so difficult to write that it’s almost painful. I don’t feel like writing about the usual everyday things that happen, but i have nothing else to write about. Everything that happens is usual. I wish something would happen that is unusual. I’d like to be put in an awkward situation just to freakin’ FEEL something for a change. I’m living in a sensory deprivation tank. When everything was happening in London, I was almost willing something similar to happen here, just to break the monotony, change the way people look at things. We’re so medicated here… our culture, our society, serves to cushion us. We’re cocooned in cotton wool, no one knows how much shit goes on around the world. Don’t get me wrong… I don’t wish anyone dead… NOT AT ALL. When it’s your time, it’s your time. That’s all there is to it. Choirs of angels don’t sing, usually you don’t open your eyes one last time to utter your final, meaningful sentence to a tearful loved-one standing conveniently close-by. Fuck Hollywood. Oh how dark and brooding of me! How clichéd! (Don’t begrudge me the lack of an accent on the e. I know not how to do this without opening character map and i’m too fucking rantish to do it).
Anyway. that’s all. hate me.