I need to write! But I can’t! More like I couldn’t. The words. The words! They seem to escape me, evading my mind, run far from my grasp, leaving me in despair, in mortal pain. Satisfaction is a sin, and I am craving it more than ever! What should I write? More like, what could I write? Inspiration has abandoned me. Creativity leaving me in the pit of boredom. And I am left in mortal pain….
Wait, I just wrote about my eagerness to write, and my frustration to not have anything to write. Trully, as they say, a writer’s mind is a fucked-up place, full of irony and weird tales….