So fucked I can't write
The emotion has come back but the words haven't
So I sit here pissed at myself
Because all I can think to do
I've already done
And convincing myself to do anything else
Is entirely futile.
And without distractions
My mind ferments
And I can't find the words
So I can't write them down
So I feel even worse


And it's a wonder I haven't started to cry
The house is so empty
Just the dogs and I
And I've seen every tape
And the words won't come so I can't create
And I want to keep doing what I've already done
But I don't want to give in to that poison
And so I'm sitting here bored
Needing a job
And then feeling worse
Because no fruit's been yielded
And the most promising fell through
Damn the new policies
And the others go back to my poison
So all I have left is to wait and ferment.
- 8.20.98