I sit in my room, bored as ever. I have been on my phone looking through Facebook, Instagram and Ifunny but I soon got bored with it all because nothing interesting was happening. ( kind of like this story so far lol) I look over to my cluttered desk to see my laptop, closed and dusty. I haven't used that thing in months. So I decide to go over and open it. I open my laptop to find the reason why I stopped using it. It was slow. As. Fuck. I wait for about an hour just for the thing to load the home screen but I closed it and grabbed some paper, a pencil, and I cleared my desk off (omg the desk is so clean it hasn't been like this in forever! I actually see a table top!/(OoO)\). We sit there for a really long time, pencil in the position to write but no matter how hard I think, not even a title comes to mind. True it's extremely difficult to come up with titles even when I have a story finished but still, I still couldn't get an idea to write about!
I drop the pencil and lay my head in my hands, thinking why am I even doing this...am I even meant to write? If I was meant to write I would have such imagination and creativity! But I have nothing.
I eventually put the paper back where I found it and walked out of my room to go raid the kitchen(Food YASS!).
YOU ARE READING
The Horrible Truth of a Writer and Artist
Short StoryDo you know the struggle of trying to write or draw something but don't have anything? Yeah me too.
