Some days it seems as if this here rambling, online journal writes itself.
Not today, though.
Today feels uninspired.
What's worse, I suppose, is that this lack of inspiration is also causing me to have a bit of an unwanted epiphany about the value of keeping track of every little thing about what is just life; writing it down while attempting to embed artful flourishes into what otherwise is utterly banal.
Could it be the blues? The blahs?
I don't know. I can't really put my finger on it.