I have nothing to say, but for some reason wanted to write something anyways. Dunno how that works.

Oh, I'll put this. A stanza to a spoken word piece I wrote. I'm terribly embarrassed by it, but beneath the embarrassment is a strong hope that it's good.

"I became addicted to misery when my soul became bulimic
I would throw up my decision and then make myself re-eat it
Repeat it, believe it! There is nothing beautiful here,
Just everything you failed to follow through with. Peer
Into the midst of an electrical storm you conjured up with your smooth words and convenient vodka.
I must love this so much."