Current mood: Lucozade
... I'm tired. My eyes are shutting themselves and my head is buzzing. It's almost as if a bee has flown in through an ear when I wasn't looking, with a glue gun, and is working away at fucking me up.
And I havn't written a story in a couple of days either. I tried to do one tonight but the magic isn't exploding out of my person like it used to. I think it's my enclosed nature recently. At home most of the time, without much stimulous. Nothing to spark of an inspiration fire to burn a story down. If you are interested in reading previous work and don't do so on a regular basis, like Doctor Robert prescribes, go here and do so.