I stare at my keyboard with a gaze a thousand miles away. I keep hoping that they will offer up answers to my question of inspiration. Somewhere between Wasd and Yui lies the unknowable riddle of creative consciousness.
My eyes sink deeper into my sockets while I wonder aloud, "What's the point?" Who will ever read this ragged pile of vocabulary, anyway? Arranged in isometric right angled ellipses. I hope that if I can get enough of the letters to lean against one another, they will reinforce themselves into profundity. I wonder if I sublimate this garbage strongly enough, if I can excuse myself from it some day.
12:48 a.m. - 2014-06-20
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