Her head fell to the pillow, sleep finally took over. After hours of crying, there were no more tears left. blah... i need to write. my creative juices have dried after all the insanity that's happened over the last year. though, i find that' i'm most imnspired wheile walking. in the misdddle of the park, crossing the street, doing laundry. then my laziness sets ijn,.
why am i so reluctant to do what i once loved? perhaps its' because i really have gained a sens e of losing attachments. either that, or i'm attached to other things now. how do you get your old seldf back? i'm not usied to jachanging. i'm not used to beind different than myself. and now i look at me and i don't recodgnize the person looking back. it's a sham e really. all was vigiven up sofor something i thought i could depend on. then i failed myself.
