My favorite place is springing to new life. Can I do the same? Can I wake from this depressed slumber and begin anew? These days are filled with doubt and I wonder what the hell I'm even doing writing. Nobody gives a damn. It's all about the money anyway and why waste time with art when it doesn't pay shit.
I sit in this corner, watching the tourists and waiting for inspiration. The muse has left the building.
I sit in this corner, watching the tourists and waiting for inspiration. The muse has left the building.