Friday

And it's killing me that I have nothing to do.

I need to occupy myself. Or I get sleepy. Or cranky and hungry. It's not a pleasant feeling. I don't envy those who feel it at all.

I can't write. For some reason my mind has shut down in a momentary paralysis. Words are running through but forming almost mutatedly.

I can't sing. Can't draw. Can't game. Need to do something.

Don't know what to do.

I feel like there's a bug in my head. All paths are blocked. And I'm stuck.