Sometimes I feel I'm thisclose to discovering something about myself artistically.
And then I
start thinking of last night's dream about making out with Enrique Iglesias
get distracted by the new issue of Wired
start a new game of Words With Friends on my phone
opt, out of laziness, not to open my unbearably slow PC and just write one damn sentence
combinations of the above
In conclusion: foiled again, self-inflicted.
I am a pathetic little fool in my small, yellow, tv- and internet-less apartment.
At least im winning on WWF.