My creativity is strange. It works in spikes. One moment I have no motivation, and just drag myself along through life, but the next I'm bounding off the walls with ideas, creativity, and enthusiasm. However, these spikes are far apart, which is why I have so many books that are so short and unfinished. Because every book is a creativity and determination spike... but my enthusiasm only lasts so long. After my 'spike' I will go back to my low point of feeling like I don't want to do much of anything. That's how my creativity works... but I'm sick of making so many books about so many things that I'm combining all of my crazy creativity spikes into one book. It will be about me, about what I think, about what I feel, and just about me in general. Maybe a poem or two sprinkled in, or a short story if i feel like it. Who knows? Ah, and why the title? Simple, I like it.

I held the rock in my hand; loosely. It slid down to the tip of my fingers. 11:08, I had two minutes left, everything was set up and every one was in there places. I pulled my hand up to my face, I examined it very closely noticing each and every curve and edge. 11:09, 1 minute left, 1 last minute to be a nobody, an invisible nobody. I had one minute to live the rest of my life, or should I say my past life. 11:10, time. I raised the rock to behind my ear, I gave it a great force of speed as it spun and hit the glass, there no longer was silence, I now will never live a day with out attention.

Collection of 'Funny Text Bloopers'.