At night she saw beasts with bright eyes and sharp teeth but even they ignored her
2002-12-22 || 10:37 p.m.

I really do need to write something here but I am just so tired.

My last two entries have just been silly two sentence things.

I am totally convinced that I have a stye coming in my right eye. Its so fucking itchy and throbbing, like a twitch or something. Its just so many years since I had a stye, they are just silly old-fashioned, cold damp British afflictions of the poor. Fuck.

I'm convinced there was something I wanted to write about here.

When I don't write for a couple of days, or I just write shit, or short sentences, its not because I'm out having fun with no time to update, its because I am blank. Totally, totally empty and blank. I feel crushed in nothingness. Why do I feel like this?

I don't want to try to construct clever sentences or arrange my words into descriptive clauses of any sort. I just feel empty and unhappy.

I was going to write that I wish that I could capture something meaningful about myself, something that doesn't sound whiney or self-indulgent but real but then I decided against it.

Writing this is truly a struggle, its like trying to pull words out of quicksand.