The crumbled up paper in my hands is quickly thrown into the trash as I lay down in my mashed-up-bed. Sheets are a bit flipped and floped, but still comfortable non the less. It's raining outside, so that's why I'm inside, and I'm just brainstorming some new ideas. And I think I'm running out.
Anyway..I'm just thinking about some things to write or draw; or whatever. Maybe people on Mars-
Space time continuum things, or just the rain-
The thunder shakes me from my thoughts, and I rip through the paper I was working one. I quickly start to write something
"glass waters in-"
Nope, scrape that idea, boom it-nuke it kill it-
I'm going to bed and I will never EVER write again.
