I have nothing to write about. For some reason, I'm only seeing things from my side. I've collapsed into a selfish person, and I can't get out of it. I'm inconsiderate to my friends and family, and I only care about myself. I barely take time to listen anymore.
Therefore, I can't think. If I do, it's dwelling on or worrying about things. The world to me right now is just...the world. Nothing more, nothing less. It's like life has lost it's meaning to me for some reason. It's frustrating. I don't feel wise or insightful anymore. I'm even getting burnt out on music. Granted, I still enjoy picking up my guitar, but I feel restricted...like I'm stuck in a rut with it. I'm not inspired to draw, write, or do anything. And it sucks. I'm a prisoner right now, and I can't seem to find the key to unlock the cell.
Well, turns out I found something to write about after all.
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