empty

dont ask me why these pages are empty. i'm stuck at home, with nothing to do, nothing to write, save the fantasies or dreams i can barely remember. or the lingering pain from three months ago? okay, so we dont need to know that. you know what's the best thing that ever happened to me these few days? the fact that there was no label that says "do not mix with alcohol" on my medicine. not that i have a chance to drink anyway.

i have a reason to believe that this is probably the most boring phase of my life.

no inspiration at all.