So, it seems the poetry well is all dried up. I try writing something, I come out with something about Happy Hardcore. I feel like I've run out of things to write.

My love life, is non existant right now. I've made a concious effort to ward off girls as far as relationships are concerned. I don't want to find a girl in Denver, and then have to move to Glenwood with that sort of thing hanging over my shoulder. I'm confident that I'll find someone up at CMC, but I'm hating the fact that I can't fall for a particular girl... One who I feel needs my help, needs me in her life, but at the same time, shuts me out with her independence, kicks me in the ribs with her whorish actions, and leaves me wanting more with her smile. What does this have to do with poetry? If you even ask that, then you don't belong on this website. Fuck women...

Mean while, blank pages, and word documents mock me face to face any time I try to write. Never did paper seem so intimidating. All of my close friends have taken their art, and elevated it to a higher plateau, and left me feeling insignificant. I feel like if I write something, show it to say, Max or David, they'll immedietly look at it and go, "Wow, he's lost his touch." Which in every shape, way, or form, it feels like I have. I have NO confidence in my self, no belief in my abilities, and no skill to write. I just, plain, SUCK.

Drugs. If there's a subject that never leaves my head, it's drugs. Drugs, drugs, drugs, plagueing my thoughts like..... the fucking plague. Ever since the ganja flow increased, as well as the pill flow, I feel the creative side of me dying. Weed used to inspire me, now it fatigues me. Too many pills has left me semi depressed, and seriously re-evaluating going to dances on drugs. I've got no time for writing, no desire, no.... ENERGY, for the god damn thing that used to make me feel alive.

Heh, feel alive. Haven't done that in quite some time. I've felt more.... sedated than anything. Like, living in a haze, not able to hear people very well, or able to see the world. And to be honest, my hearing's been a bit fucked, and my vision has been known to get blurry even with glasses. GOD DAMNIT I HATE MY SCTRATCHED LENSES. I hate seeing tiny little blurs cm away from my face.

Overall, shit sucks. The realization I've come to is, it's all my doing. I'm physically out of shape, my brain's a bit fried, and sitting in dirty water, my relationships are in disaray, and it's all my damn fault. Where the fuck is the god damn reset button....