the writer is still blocked.

i can't write more than one paragraph at a time. my thoughts don't sit still long enough. i'm not trying to be vague or mysterious or cryptic, honest i'm not. i'm just not sure where i'm going right now. with this. my words, my life. the element of surprise is key to the story. but i'm not writing it; it's writing itself.

inspired:
a lazy sunday spent with sunshine, good conversation and ice cream.

lost:
time, staring at blank screens/pages/walls.

found:
haiyan's new york photos make me yearn for the city even more.

overheard:
"is this the line to order food or for the bathroom?"

nonsequitur:
i own three wallets and don't even have enough cash to fill one.