2002-02-06���10:26 p.m.

Somtimes I realy want to write but nothihg comes to me. It is so strange somtimes I sit down with my guitar and I cant make the pen move fast enough to get everything out. Hear lately I just sit there. Everything that goes through my head is just drivel. That scares me. It is not that I am some great writer but what I write means somthing to me. It is a way for me to let out what is in my heart. It wories me beacaus at the moment my heart is just an organ in my body. It is so strange. If I am depresed I want to write. If I am happy I want to write. At the moment I am just here. If I was a colour at the moment I would be somthing like brown. Not bright not dark just there. I wish somthing would happen good or bad just to make me feal somthing at the moment. I feal like if I was to cut myslef I wouldent even bleed. No pain no hurt no nothing. That is such a strange fealing. Well I will go to bed and hope to be back to me one way or the other in the morning. Goodnight.