I always seem to have a hard time sleeping when night falls.

 I enjoy having the to time to myself, alone with my thoughts without any interruptions. In the late hours of the night approaching morning is when you'll find me wandering through my mind, going through my day. In the dark comfort of my room you can find me whispering to the shadows, telling them about my day. It would later advance to deep confessions about my past, revealing every dirty little secret and the dark moments that have scarred me forever. I would make plans about my life in the future, make commitments to myself and the shadows that tomorrow I'm going to wake up and I will change for the better. I will reach my goals and outline every detail of what I'm going to do to get it.

Finally satisfied, a smile would cross my lips accompanied by a satisfied sigh before falling into sleep. In the mornings, scared awake from my semi-coma by my screaming alarm clock. I'd wake up groggy and ready to kill, forgetting everything from the night before. The carefully laid out plans and whispered secrets of the night would fall behind to the far end of my memory cabinets and abandoned forever.

Onward with life.

I have writers block.

I have artists block.

I have every block imaginable. I'm not miserable enough, there isn't enough rage, enough sadness and depression boiling inside of me screaming to be let out. I'm starting to feel empty. What is the opposite of sadness? I've forgotten that feeling, this feeling, i've been hollowed out from this for so long.

I encompass every bit of my miserable self into my art, into my work, and now this sensation is gone. I want to give birth to something new, my own baby creation, and nothing comes out. Nothing comes forth and all I have left is unfinished poetry, fragmented art, undeveloped stories of love and anguish. Falling to pieces, waiting to be reborn, to come anew under my hands once again.

I'm still waiting for my inspiration.

a boy with a beautiful soul re-awakened my heart tonight

slowly unwrapping its bandages kissing its every scar

whispering promises of eternal bliss

we melted under the stars tangled in the moonlights lingering rays

holding hands in the dark as the rain fell upon our quivering bodies

teach me to let go teach me to love

1. Yourself: Self-deprecating
2. Your Lover: Tangled
3. Your Hair: Confused
4. Your Mother: Disoriented
5. Your Father: Nonsensical
6. Your Favorite Item: Disguised
7. Your Dream Last Night: Technicolor
8. Your Favorite Drink: Satisfying
9. Your Dream Home: Exotic
10. The Room You Are In: Informal
11. Your Pet: Understanding
12. Who You Are Now: Fluctuating
13. Who You Want to be in Ten Years: Delicious
14. What You Want to be in Ten Years: Cultured
15. What You're Not: Narcissistic
16. Your Best Friend: Unpredictable
17. One of Your Wishlist Items: Enchanted
18. Your Gender: Unstable
19. The Last Thing You Did: Frolic
20. What You Are Wearing: Modest
21. Your Favorite Weather: Dizzy

22. Your Favorite Book: Unfinished
23. The Last Thing You Ate: Bulky
24. Your Life: Shambles

25. Your Mood: Fluctuating

I would often find myself walking within my mind down the dusty path of my life, night would fall and the darkness that comes with it would consume me. Conversations with friends seem to hollow out, clawing around within myself trying to find the words to fully express myself. How can you express words and feelings that were never there?

I've been experiencing a sort of short-term amnesia as of late. I would be in the middle of an everyday something activity and this overwhelming nothingness would shoot into my skull and into my memories-- then everything would go blank. I would forget who I am, what I encompass, my name, my family... everything. I would find myself sitting there, trying to remember my face and nothing would show. I'd have to walk to the mirror and stand there studying my own image discerning it's authenticity. Perhaps I've been a different person a million times over whenever this happens and it just takes me a while to get back to knowing my own face.

It would be strange to walk in your shoes.