Category: Writers Block
Hedspace:
Thoughts amble restlessly, drifting. Like poor forgotten wafes of the world, they scramble for perchace. Cloudy emotions swerl, trying to sort themselves out. In this space, focus is an illusion, a slightly snowy blur of a picture. Consentration creeps, tries to slither, anything to be seen by the eye of conciousness. Ultimately, it’s a lost cause.