Monday, 16 February 2009



Whether the weather is to blame, or if the current state of my mind is a result of something else I am not quite sure. My brain is simply barren of creativity. I muse and brood and huff and puff and I even produce ideas, but I can't seem to express them. I forget them instantly.

One of our teachers told us that creativity is a result of


At the moment I feel I am in a state of searching for inspiration, moving slowly into complete immersion. I just need to find a way to gather all the inspirational information.

I see myself leaving post-it notes for myself all over the apartment. Tiny reminders of a lurking parallel self that is in hiding. Someone told me to buy a notebook. I did. 

This is what I've written so far

"An apple."


The atrophy of the brain becomes mercilessly rapid post puberty, it seems.

Meanwhile, I am mind-bogglingly happy.

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