~For my sanity, my passion, my family, people who need a push, and my inspiration. For you, as this means a million+ words more to me than you could ever imagine. I will share it.~


The words won't come together, because my fingers are too clumsy. The sentences are too flawed because my mind is scattered and I cannot focus. I'm too tired to be inspired for the plot, and when I am, I'm too tired still to really put it together.

I see things everyday that remind me of my passion, and it drives me insane because I can't express it; I'm too tired, too worn, I woke up too early, my muse is there, but it doesn't have enough power to battle with the exhaustion of the day.

I miss words, sentences, my mind going back and forth, fast and slow, and I cannot keep it in one place.

Its painful. I hate it, I'm frustrated..and sad. I have my drive but I cannot use it. I have this one thing that I'm good at, that I love possibly more than I could love more than one person. And I can't express it.

I want- need to sit down, to use my head and push the limits, again, again, and again. To rest and do it again. My body is built for short bursts- and my mind for long ones. I need to pick out each word, to process each statement and character, the complexities of a single sentence from someone's mouth, or the reason for a simple movement.

I need to tell a story. But I can't right now, not at this point, where I work to support myself because that is what I have to do, by obligation. I used to write until I couldn't think, and it would feel so good, then I'd do it again once I got a good night's rest. But now, I work until I can't move, then I try, try so hard to write until I can't think, but then I have to do more, and I just can't do it and feel anything but failure. Because I"m to tired to know if I did good or bad.

Because I'm not able to see everything with tired eyes, and it leads me to feel depressed. I feel like being a victim once again, and I have to fight it once again. Doing nothing it painful, I get that feeling in my gut again, the one that tells me;

You should do this, this is what you do, what you need to do, this is what you think of everyday like people do with the one they love. Like people think fondly on memories of dates and Christmas's you think of those nights up late pushing your fingers to type faster on the keyboard, And your brain to think of what to place down next.

And because I haven't done so in so long, I now also have doubts. When given the time, will I use it? Or just let the world distract me, as it now tires me?

Then I think, and I lost the words to the thought because I have been awake too long, doing to many things, with too many things on my mind about the real world, and I cannot live the stories right now because of this.

Reality is blinding when I need to stay stuck in a fantasy, and I can't switch over. I imagine, that I will one day be able to do what I truly love and be able to focus solely on it. Not distracted by the typical life, so that I can pursue the many dreams I wish to put on screen.

But life is cruel, and I see people who have lost it for rent, family, and work. I will fight it, but I cannot decide my future. No matter how stubborn I can be.