Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Bones of a sunday afternoon.

Its that time again when I ve seemingly forgotten how to string words together into sentences. Meaningful ones, preferably. Though not necessarily. There was a time when I used to write to tell a story. Then there was a time when I wrote for someone. That bunch of shit would look profound in the first read, but it wasnt. It was just a bunch of shit. Tonight I don't know what to write about. Still, I type on, making a fool of myself on paper.
Eh, its okay.

Sigh. No. Its not.

1 comment:

  1. I know the feeling... Yet still nicely written :)


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