You know that weird and annoying feeling when you just can’t put your thoughts into words or art or anything that could be an outlet for it to be easier to carry. Because some thoughts, especially these kinds of thoughts are such a burden for us that we need something to sort of help us carry it.
And now I’m just having a hard time looking for one. They’re pieces of ideas and realizations that feels like a whole but when you think about it, they’re just fragments of that feeling. And when you try to stitch them together, you end up being like this careless craftsman who feels like he knows how to work these things out because this is part of his job when really, he has no idea of fixing it.
Okay this entry does not even make any sense. Because I don’t really understand how I sometimes could an exceptionally literary piece when I don’t really mean to. And sometimes I write the stupidest most irrelevant and uncivilized blabbers when I really have an amazing idea for an entry. Well bitch, because that’s what you called being inspired, that’s why. There, I answered my own question. You do realize that i literary writing whatever’s coming out of my head. Like whatever that comes across my mind. butts.
And sometimes, this is what I love making pointless blogs because one moment it was just pieces of mumbles and then the next thing you know you just wrote four paragraphs of it.
Make that five.It’s really weird. Damn, I really hate it when so many things happen in one day. Infinite ideas yet everything is limited. wut.