Only slightly, though
I am too tired for gaming tonight. Can you believe? I can’t believe. It’s really nice to just lay in bed and think – think of my watermelon vine, daydream of herbs and fruit.
Lately, it’s been difficult to write. Can one be inspired yet filled with ennui? There are many things I wish to write, but feel the weight of wondering what makes what I have to say worth saying. Then my head compensates by deciding my thoughts are no more or less worthy than anyone else’s, so I can write whatever I please. But by then, I’ve spent so much time thinking about it that I’m sick of writey stuff and ready to play games.
I can hear my clan on voice chat in the other room, smell my cat’s fish breath from this end of the bed. This is a slightly unusual evening.