my words have escaped me, and i can do nothing but wait for them to come back. i’ve tried once, before, to feign my writing even when my mind was consumed with nothingness. it has been a drought for the past week or so, and i just hope that sometime soon, i will once again come up with a decent piece here.

perhaps, it is because my procrastination has gnawed at my faculties, and i am left with an unthinking mind, and an unfeeling heart.

these times are most confusing, and unsettling — because these are the moments when i question who i really am. am i or am i not?

tsk.

boredom sure does wonders.