i am depressed. lonely. scared. all the sudden i dont feel so great. my art sucks because i havent made anything. my writing sucks because i have written anything. i dont even want to go out side in the daylight. i hang out in my room in the dark, with a blanket over my window. not because i want to, i just do. i want to be in the dark, complete darkness like swimming in ink. that kind of dark. i want the only color i see to come forth when i touch my eyelids, and then explosions of red and yellow and white that quickly turn to blue and green and blackness again. fireworks on summer nights on a blanket on the grass.
i believe all of this has come out of my not working. the ideas i come up with seem good at the time but then i put too much thought into them and decide that they are crap. i guess this is part of the process. its like being constipated because i cant give a shit. i hate being constipated. contipation of the mind, body and mouth. the shit is inside me but i cant expell it. i need a creative laxative. CREAT-O-LAX. where do you buy it? hope its not expensive.