I don't think I'll ever be famous here, or anywhere really, online.. I could be "good" enough at what I do, but I just /don't do/. I have maybe three friends on here, and the combined number of times I talk to them probably doesn't even equal one friend, although I'm happy to have them.

I don't read your journals. You don't read mine. We're even.

I don't post comments. I really have nothing interesting to say that hasn't been said already, and initiating conversation has never led to anything good for me, anyway. People talk to me sometimes, and that works out pretty well, but never when I start it.

I don't write... Enough? At all. I could be a great writer. When I think of something to write and send into the abyss of the internet, it always sounds great in my mind, filled with fancy metaphors, and trailing on for paragraphs in a wonderful association of things that are normally unrelated... And then, I get to my screen, and I've forgotten it all. (This post was supposed to be one of those... I see it isn't now.) If I'm lucky, I can remember one phrase that sounded particularly great long enough to write it down... Usually, I can't, and I can certainly never type fast enough to keep up with my internal babblings even if I try to write them... And then they run away without me and get lost forever.

I don't really believe in inspiration anymore. I believe in boredom. I sit in front of a piece of paper and stare into its depths for such long times, and nothing ever comes to mind. I draw mechanically if there's something that needs to be done... A costume, a dress with a specific theme, an interior design... But none of it is inspired, and I usually just feel like I've drawn everything that comes to mind, that I can't just waste paper scribbling down the same old nothings.

I don't have any motivation anymore. It feels like things are grinding to a halt...
I don't have time, and yet I have infinite time.

I don't /want to/ think...