There’s nothing like not writing. I feel the pressure of wanting to say something profound, but all the thoughts in my head are angry or depressing. I want to be hilarious.
Hey, what she wrote there, that was hilarious!
Humor is subjective, we know this, but I want to be funny damn it. All the things I could write about I’ve already covered a million times and I’m tired of exaggerating. It’s all getting old. I’m writing this word vomit because I don’t know what else to do. There hasn’t been anything on here in a while. Why are you still reading this? Go watch Netflix or eat a donut. Oh, you’re still reading this because I’m still writing words.
I’m fixated on the way things are supposed to be and there’s so supposed to be. It just is.
I just sneezed. I thought you should know that.