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