[inspired under boots. ]

I am only uninspired when it is important that i write or create. No, that is not true. It is when I over think it. It is when I avoid feeling too much. It is months (years?) of seroquel thickening my blood. You can see it all regressing. Start with November and walk back five years. Everything I am proud of in a large sketch book. Filled with words and pastels. Oh this makes sense. No lines. Lots of sense. How I will eventually write short stories is beyond me. Ah, yes. This will do.