I have had a the unfortunate experience of listening to my thoughts.
i avoid contact with my mind as to dodge the many negative questions about my slowly disintegrating life.
I have come to the conclusion that i am dying - emotionally (not physically). i have become a void where emotion is suffocated and the result is a disconnected robot - wandering aimlessly amongst the blossoming youth.

dear god that was flowery! enough of this self pity waffle - it is my own fault for not pushing my creativity (what remains)forward and attempting to progress is writing.

Damm! i really though reading a shit load of french novels and some Burroughs would cure my ignorance.