Another day passes and I haven’t done anything creative… haven’t written, haven’t drawn.
Another day passes and I have numbed myself with Facebook and silly games. Why?
Another day passes and I dream about my son moving back home with his girlfriend and I try to plan for their arrival.
Another day passes and I sit at the desk at the library and visit the blogs of a writer I used to follow and find that she is only 2 years younger than me and is living out the kind of dreams I envision for myself.
Another day passes.
sentient marrow 