It’s getting harder and harder to scratch out anything worth the ink and paper. Even more difficult to diagnose the problem. Is it being stuck in another mind numbing job. No social interactions. Lack of a truly good piece of ass. Likely all of the above. Coffee on my ride into work makes me think I’m happy. Same way whiskey works when I get home every night. I haven’t heard myself laugh in some time. I wonder if I could go back and right my wrongs would my spirit be lighter. Would my smile come easier. Like the full moon draws on the tides. I don’t know. So I’ll just have to sit here and think about it for the time being. Wait till there is something worth writing about. I wonder if you’ll wait with me. We can have a drink as we wait together.