I don’t know what I’m doing...
Maybe I’m missing someone.
I don’t know...
But I feel stressed and needy and I’ve never wanted to write something so bad in my life...
Its just that there isn’t anything to write anymore...
My mind is blank,
Logic, fact and principle has been cemented into the free flowing spaces migrating creativity left in my mind,
Gaps of knowledge, imagination and creativity could fill...
But not anymore...
What it would take to get my freedom back...
To be mentally free from all the stress and troubles...
From all the physics and mathematics and economics...
To be able to be creative without being told to follow a specific order...
I’ll write ending first if I have too...
I always write an ending before I’ve written the second chapter...
But what is this?
A headache...
Blurred vision...
Heavy eyelids...
A lost conscience and cluttered mind...
I’m sober...
But I can’t wait for the day I can at least try to forget the stress...
And make the mistake of drinking a load of alcohol...

Molla...

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