Every now and then, I sit down to write an entry and I can't.  I want whatever is boiling inside of me to pour out onto the keyboard, but not even a drop will sqeeze through.

I try to write about things that are bigger than my day to day.  I don't want to tell you about what I had for breakfast and I'm sure you don't care to read it. 

I want to write entries that I can look back to years from now and relate to. 

Most of my inspiration to write is fleeting.  You see, if something only seems interesting while I am away from the computer, but loses its worthiness by the time I get a chance to write it down, it probably wasn't worth the time to type out in the first place. 

I don't mean to rag on people who write about their day-to-day though.  I honestly love to read it.  I swear it is a mental condition, but I love it when people tell me about themselves.  I always feel as through my fleeting thoughts are not worth anyone's time, but I can't get enough of everyone else's. 

If you knew me in person, I would have already tried my tricks to get you to tell me about your life, your view on the world/religion/meaning/love or your recent issues with friends/family.   I don't understand why, but I just can't get enough. 

I did learn something that might be of interest recently though.  If you get lots of fake blood in your eyes and are really dehydrated, your eyes start twitching. 

© DO NOT EAT 2006