Uninspired.

There is something lost and dull about this place. It is the only place uninspiring enough to inspire me right now. Turns out I can't write when I'm happy. At all. So I have to seek out these feelings of loneliness. And nothingness. And maybe even sadness.

There's too much light in that other place. There, I don't have to turn to the solace of a blank piece of paper and my favourite pen or a blank Word document with flashing cursor to turn these train track thoughts into something solid that I can get over.

I have writer's block like nothing else right now.