Anything But A Spy Complex.

I'm feeling that retarded urge again. That urge to create something and the feeling that nothing wants to pour out of my head.

It doesn't cooperate when the urge hits. Nothing does. I have the tools but the thoughts aren't meshing with the paper.

Nothing.

There is nothing.

I want to write about you. About her. About him. About them. I have to do something and for some reason it just isn't working. For fuck's sake!!!

It's funny how last night was awesome and today was just kind of crap. Blargh. I'm sure I'll spend the rest of the night staring at the screen and pretending like I have some sort of inspiration. =D