I used to write.

Everything from stories, to poems, to songs...it was all there. Now there's a hole of big, fat nothing where the creative part of my mind used to dwell. Its disappointing to attempt to even try anymore. I just end up sitting for hours in frustration trying to get a good line out that would spark some magic. Now I just have to be content to listen to others' music, and read others' stories and poems, and wish it were my own, because: "that's exactly what I was going to say."

I blame college for killing any and all creativity I once possessed in my being.





Yeah, I used to write.