Hi, my name is Carmel and I have a writers block, not only that, it just feels like my entire creative side has disappeared. I play the piano, but there are no new tunes. I used to write stories, but there is no inspiration. And now I am at home, lying in bed, writing an introduction to a book with the sole purpose to get me out of this not-so-creative-dump.
It is the middle of my summer break, it is time to get my life back on track and actually do things. So...here I am. Doing things. I just got back from France, spending two weeks in another country is relaxing. You meet new people and don't have to worry about how they think of you, because you are going to leave and you will never see them again.
It is like taking a dump the second before you are going to leave a restaurant - and knowing you will never go back.
Like I said, relaxing.
I have no idea what this book is going to be like, it is most likely going to be another unfinished project of mine. I hope there won't be any more talking about poop, you didn't come here for that shit. (Ha! Get it? Alright, now I am officially done.) And if you did, I am sorry to disappoint you. This is more or less my diary, the story of how I want to turn this hell hole -my creative mind- into a more or less heavenly place.
I think this is a good enough introduction for this thing? So I will just say goodbye now.
YOU ARE READING
Oddly Impressed and Utterly Disappointed
Non-FictionHow do you describe something that isn't even there? Something that has yet to be found. I can't feel it, I can't see it, I can't smell it. But it is there, in the back of my mind. It. Is. There. An action in need of an equal opposite reaction...
