Monday, February 15

what i mean is, beetles are nice to look at and all but they're not really food

What the heck is up with me? This inexplicable inability to write anything is really cramping my style. Maybe I should write about it. Maybe by writing about it, I'll gain some insight as to what's going on with me lately.

Here goes:

SO. The other day I tried to write something. And I failed. So I gave up. Then, the next day, I tried to write something else. And I failed at that too. So then I didn't write anything for the next three weeks. And that made me feel like a failure. So now I want to burn my computer and quit my job and move to a cabin in the woods and sell handmade jewelry on a street corner for a living. But I don't know how to make jewelry. So there's a strong possibility that I would only wind up destitute and lose the cabin and have to sleep in a tree and eat beetles and acorns for the rest of my short, disease-ridden existance.

Analysis: I want to quit my job and go live in a cabin in the woods and make jewelry for a living. I don't want to have to subsist on beetles. I feel like everything is ultimately my computer's fault.

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