I sat here for almost three hours, looking at this blank piece of virtual paper, thinking of what to write. I watched the cursor blink. blink. blink.

I'm tired.
I wish I could sleep all day long but my brain won't let me do so.
And I feel blunt because of this crappy fruit cocktail I ate. :/ The pineapples are all mushy and somehow old. And it's bearably cold today, because, thank heavens, the sun's out rather than the rain.

I've been writing 24/7. Or maybe, 8/7. I can't get enough of it.
That's why I haven't been posting here too, I think. Ideas drain me -- before I'd kill anything (too harsh I guess) to get an idea on my head. To have inspiration. Beware what you wish for is the perfect phrase here. I'm too full of ideas it's turning me into a zombie -- an amputated creature -- a madman. I wake up at ten in the morning, still sleepy, and struggle to go down the stairs. After I've washed myself, I write. And then it's lunchtime. And then I have a go on the computer. And then I write. And write. And write. It goes on until 2:30AM, and I tell myself, "What a stupid way to drive yourself insane," only I can't do anything else at the moment, I continue living like this.

I hope something good comes out of this, so my nights when I should be sleeping wouldn't be such a waste. Well, I hope. Because I hate waking up so late in the morning, only have six hours of sleep.