I miss being inspired. There’s something about it that stirs up things inside of you urging your emotions to come out and pushing you to do things you wouldn’t usually do — things that no matter how ugly could still be beautiful in the same way the roots that caused it are.
I’m a blank head these days. Nothing good can come out. I could babble on and on about random things and it wouldn’t have any meaning. Not to me. I can’t blame that it’s not the right time of the night. There’s just really nothing remarkable happening. Not when I’m always avoiding it.
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