you see this is what happens everytime:

i've got wonderful material (my little brother seeing off our wonderful friend Ana, my new wacky job, the shit that marcy keeps pulling on me at bakers, the past (chris specifically and how it's affecting me currently), and moving out/into a new place)

but i get so goddamn fucking irate that NONE of it matters. That the words just fall from my head. that no matter how much a lone time i have and spend next to a pad of paper my pen will be lost, and my words will NOT be recieved on paper.

i'm really enjoying this whole let your love dwindle thing.