08 février 2005

Ooh, writer's block

Right, here is what I'd feared all along. My inspiration has dried up, my muse has deserted me, I'm not creative any more.

Was I ever, I hear you snigger. Well, believe it or not, for the whole two days it lasted, I felt I was. Now I am but a forlorn soul wandering the streets around Bastille without an aim, a mission, or indeed a penny. Farewell, dear readers.

Naaa, just kidding, never was creative, never will be, and probably never really had a reader (thank you Zoe, for nurturing in me the impression that someone, at some point, cared). But I do mean to continue contributing to the overpopulation of the Internet blogging space. Oh yeah. And using words I'm not sure I actually understand - see forlorn, nurturing, reader.

I wish you could all hear my manic laughter and cringe in fear (and here I go again with those words), but I'll just keep that for the office. In which I'm about to get busted for not being too brisk or efficient, this morning... oh gosh, the boss just walked in.

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