It's unbelievably frustrating. I am suffering a case of writers block. I can feel words emerging from my brain and fighting to be put into phrases. My fingers are battling with each other to scribble or type anything with substance and meaning. It's not a lack of inspiration, just a lack of motivation. I've tired out my usual topics, and I am searching for something natural, something I know about. But maybe that's the thing -- I never look for fires, they usually spark themselves.
I always write best when the weather is poor, or when I feel energized by something frustrating. Right now, the only thing that's frustrating to me is my hair. I know, how vain. I used to write about how much I hate fake, vain girls. Maybe I've become one of them. I never wanted to blend in. However, I've become a chameleon.
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