fuck it. fuck it all. i don’t know how to make anything anymore. it kills me inside, but i don’t. i can’t create anything. i can’t journal, i can’t write, i can’t paint, i can’t make. at all. it makes me crazy. i don’t know what to do about it. fuck it. i think i’ll just implode or something. how to fix how to fix. sticky tape will not cut it today.
TheWriteStuff
a group of people who write things, i hope. we are snippets and thingos and whatsits and fiction and emotion and haikus and stories and conversation quotes and character ideas and whatever strikes us at the moment.
join: email us
