"Everything is a theory until you've got substantial evidence. When you've got the evidence, you can go ahead and call it fact. But until then, your theory's empty words to me."
It feels like everything interesting I've got to say takes form in a Facebook status, like that. It's funny, in a way. But in another way, it's just annoying. Why can't I think of anything good to say outside of the interwebs? Why's my brain on auto-pilot?
I miss my muses...they kept me company. It's lonely in my head, without all the constant stream of story ideas. I'm living but I'm not alive. I know that line's over-used but it's how I feel right about now. How I've been feeling for the past few months. But hopefully, I can get back to what really matters: writing.
Hopefully, putting pen to paper will thaw my heart and wandering brain. Seems like I can't focus on anything these days, I'm just a goldfish, swimming around my bowl and wondering what it's like outside the glass. Wish I knew...
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