The Dark

...since I didn't post for a long while, this is a long post.

She rubs her eyes and looks at the walls again. At the moment, they’re looking a sickly, fluorescent sort of color—more lemon yellow than soft green—that makes the pit of her stomach feel even emptier. But it’s not just her stomach. As the hours slip by—midnight, one, two, three, four, five in the morning—she, in her entirety, becomes emptier and emptier, like her mind’s being removed, carved out, gutted out of her body. Turning back to the computer, she tries to conjure up emotion, ideas, thoughts. Something? 

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Post Story Depression

I think I have a severe case of Post Story Depression.

Whenever I finish a story, I find myself getting seriously disappointed, bored, and overall dissatisfied with myself.

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uhm. what? double rainbows? not really.

I'm currently supposed to be working on college apps. But I never seem to be able to think of anything relevant unless it's due in 5 minutes.

....and it's not due in 5 minutes. So.

I haven't written anything for a while. I just feel like I don't really have anything to say. Actually, I do have things to say. I'm just being super lazy. It's hibernation season. All this winter and snow makes me feel extra slow.

But after listening to the same song on repeat 42 (43 now...) times, I've decided I really should write something. Even if it's not for college apps. So I'm just going to write a random story, regardless of how terribly it turns out. It's half stream of consciousness, since I'm just going to write it as random ideas pop into my head. Okay?

Even if you're not okay with it, too bad. I really need to get writing. And I feel sort of snobby right now. Sorry.

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Whales :)

Whale
Oh look, it's another ridiculous whale.
I just had to put this up here.