Back at school blues. Let me get a gruff voice, pour a glass of whiskey and I'll send you on a journey of jazz filled wonder.
I can't even be bothered to try and make this sound eloquent. I can't be bothered painting myself a nicer picture. I'm not. I'm blank, unmotivated and moody as hell right now. Actually, no. I'm not moody at all.
That's the problem. I'm nothing. Nothing is going on in my life. I should be thankful for that in some way, but I'm not. All I can think about is how I am alive, but I'm not living. I thought I was given a second chance to build a life for myself. A life for only me, where I could do what I like, when I liked and not answer to... yeah. Anyway, no.
I wish I had some passion, or hatred, or anger, or love, or sorrow, OR ANYTHING left in me. Then I can produce something worth merit. Then I immerse myself in books.
All I fucking do is watch One Tree Hill because these characters are so relatable, but far more exciting than me. I shouldn't be envious of fictional characters, and I shouldn't be so involved with them either.
OH, moan, moan, moan. It's really not all bad. It's not bad at all. I'm just fed up and wish I could whisk myself away and do something. I'm sure it'll all come together soon.
It's strange having all my loose ends firmly tied up.