Yep.

That's the epitomy of it right now.

Yep.

This too shall pass...





Thank God, or else I might just jump off a cliff and end this suffering. Fffffff. Waking up with nothing but writing, drawing, or reading to do is not as fun as I imagined. I also didn't expect everything to become work, and therefore become turned off to it. What happened to the days when I'd just draw in a sketchbook and not give a shit how it turned out? What happened to the days where I could write for literally the entire day and actually get pissed if I was interrupted? Now I can't write a scene without taking a nap in between, or just leaving it and saying 'fuck this, I don't want to do it'. Where has all my inspiration, my passion, my romance for this stuff gone?

Sigh. I'll get it back together soon, you guys. I just have to work on doing stuff... and trying to re-aquaint myself with Marinia, trying to get the mood back. I can write shitty rough drafts, and that's perfectly fine. I can rewrite and revise into perfect, pure, clear and sheer gold. That's fine too. But I can't for the life of me feel any passion in it until I either have music that inspires me, or I feel like it at a random place. I used to be so good at fighting this stuff, but then... what happened? Shit like this just... UGHHH IT'S SO STUUUPIDDDD! OMG FML!!! /dies

Please, carry on. I'll just go back to bed and figure it all out there, then wake up and forget everything again.

Fml.