Writing. Depression. Internet.

It seems like a semi-vicious cycle when you're a creative person who's driven and has nothing to occupy the mind with. Take me: I am trying to keep busy and upbeat since I am currently not working and if my brain is mush come fall, I'm a goner. Also, I have been planning on using the summer to write and continue working on projects from the spring. Now why is it that when I barely had time to sleep and eat I was writing profusely, but now, when I barely do anything other than eat and sleep I can't so much as write an intro paragraph!

The vacuum my friends, the vacuum of KFCKD radio is swirling around me and all I hear is the white noise of Bear Delaware. Its not that I'm not inspired by normalcy, despite my obsession with fantasy, I write realism (dang it). It's rather that the everyday shmah of sleep/eat makes me feel so worthless. Enter the cycle.

Now, this is just what I thought before I began the post. "I should write something. Anything. Rework a few monologues in the play? Yes. But if I go upstairs I'll want to clean. Cleaning is good. Cleaning gets my blood going and lines pop into my head. Yes, I'll clean. But I came down here to check my email. By the time I check my email I'll just want to be lazy again. So, write, then email, clean later. No, my room is a mess. I can't write with a messy room. Apple Orange Banana 8663. I should watch HIMYM. Those stories are so wild and witty. No, I'll read. That will truly inspire me. No, I should write. Anything. Emails are anything. I'll blog! But if I poor out my thoughts onto the internet instead of paper isn't that just like channeling into a black hole? What's the point. Maybe facebook is the reason I don't write anymore? In my attempt to communicate am I actually shutting myself down?"

Well?