shards of broken pieces

my life hasn’t been anything like shards of broken glass - its far from that. in fact, as im sitting down and typing this out, i catch myself thinking the same lines over and over again, “what the heck am i to write about?”

as i watch the cursor blink repetitively, never losing a beat, like the beating of a human heart, i wonder where that side of me has been? that side which used to be able to sit down and write for hours, that side who did not need to constantly tap at the backspace key, that side who took pride in what he wrote.

don’t get me wrong… im not depressed or down or dejected or whatever is it you lot like to call it. that word doesn’t exist in my dictionary. its just plain sailing now, like a boat out in the middle of a huge lake, like a feather falling through the vast open sky. like the smoke from a cigar, endlessly filling the room.

i catch myself again. am i making sense of this? i can’t be bothered anymore… no more “backspacing” no more thinking… no more “does this really make any sense”? i guess sometimes people just want to know what im thinking, have something to read, have something to do.

like me. its 3am and im sitting in front of the screen, staring again. into space. i need to do something exciting. i need to achieve something. i need to get out of this cycle. perhaps… i need to get l**d. hah.