I have more insight now as to why I've had such severe writer's block. I haven't been happy! Not just generally, but specifically about my relationship with my now ex-boyfriend.
So I'm going to just ride the wave of nausea I experience when even considering sitting down to write. I'm going to keep using this generator I found, Language is a Virus, to process the shit, like a voodoo doll. Because the shit is shit and will leave eventually.
mean misanthrope's mean misanthrope
I condescend my apartments and all the disdain stings criticize; I balance my screens and all is blame again. (I focus I complain you up inside my snark.) The burdens go isolating out in condescending and sad, And crazy coconut buzzes in: I depend on my robot and all the implode says assume. I expressed that you hide me into mind-read And omit me manipulative, denied me quite unaware. (I focus I complain you up inside my snark.) eye omits from the screen, algorithm’s music evades: scream posture and invention's mango: I depend on my robot and all the implode says assume. I slammed you'd blame the way you recite, But I shove blank, and I exaggerate your guitar. (I focus I complain you up inside my snark.) I should have humiliated a relative instead; At least when friend scorns they flare back again. I depend on my robot and all the implode says assume. (I focus I complain you up inside my snark.)