Whenever I decide to start writing something, like an actual story for instance, I always get this nagging thought in the back of my head that just says "All this is going to do is sit in the back of your computer's memory, you're not going to show it to anyone, and even if you did, and even if these people said some things about it that didn't change... anything, then what are you going to do with it?" Something kinda like that. What's mostly irritating is that everything I do want to write is something I can't write in Word all on my lonesome, the writing I feel like doing is always in little bursts, which can turn into big bursts, but on things that aren't just things that pop out of my head when I write... as those things, they always need to be fleshed out (If I ever wrote a sci-fi story for instance, I'd have to flesh out -everything- in order for myself to even like it)

Basically, I hold this compulsion to write things... but at the same time, there's this negative thought process behind everything that kills every piece of motivation I'd have. Of course, that just means that I may have gone into a "creative" spurt in a RPG or two, cuz that's generally how I vent my want to write about something fancy when I physically just can't create everything and the situations in a story in which it'd be applicable.

What makes Spink sad is that whenever he gets these creative spurts for RPGs, everyone decides to leave for a week, or lose interest suddenly and then nothing happens and Spink creates an 8700 word document detailing all these things he did with characters and he can't do anything with it and it might end up being completely null and void and then he's screwed over. That, and he's just so bored -- like, blank mind-nothing-he-wants to do bored. Amplified by the novel he read in four hours time and the one he's nearly half through and the fact that he made a blog entry.

And since break is over today I feel like a bunch of meh as I wait for tomorrow, knowing I still need to print off my schedule so I don't screw up half-way through the day, like I did last year =/

And out of nowhere, Spink feels down and sad, and bored enough to just focus on his growing hunger and the inability to get any snacks cuz he's not allowed to touch that stuff until after dinner which is taking forever. ;-;

Spink also feels lonely because everyone decided to randomly vanish.

He also doubts anyone is going to really read this entry because most people probably don't really care about my bored state or the writing issues he ran into.

Bored of reading, bored of games, bored of talking on the phone with people, bored of watching his friends from other states speak in a different language that utilizes the letters of English. He feels crummy that he can't write a story, feels crummy of all the negativity he feels in his head. ;-;

And yeah, I imperfectly shifted between third and first person periodically.