Go Fuck Yourself!

That's what Im telling my brain right now. For two days, I have had zero brain activity and it's killing me. I feel like Terri Schiavo. I cannot fathom a single intellectual thing to write on here so now im simply writing for the sake of writing.

I've been sitting in front of this... this thing, for hours upon hours. It has sucked me dry. I've written about 10 drafts, but have failed to produce anything of substance. For a second I thought, "HEY! I can write about the Pope dying!", but then I realized that I already used up my one "copy everyone else" post on the Terri Shiavo case. I really don't know what it is either. Maybe it's that the end of the school year is upon us and my brain decided to take an early leave of absence. Maybe the consistent amount of Jack Daniels I consumed for two years has finally caught up to me since I decided to stop drinking. Maybe it's that I haven't been drinking.

I've had some of the best conversations, ever, over the past few days. Yet, when I sit down and want to write something meaningful, it comes out as mindless dribble. Fuck, I even responded to posts on other blogs with at least some sort of intellectual prowess. So for now, I give up. I concede defeat. However, I do so with little sportsmanship or honor. As I lay down to sleep tonight, I will curse my brain and its failure to think as I want it to think. Tomorrow, hopefully I'll wake up and find my inner Tonya Harding. Then go and just hit the shit out of my brain. Even Nancy Karrigan got up and won the silver medal, right?