Anything and everything, the ultimate source of useless information


Half the time people write not to inform /entertain/record, but they do it to fill a blank page, the thing writers find annoying. Staring onto that blank canvas angered by the lack of substance, and slowly pushing harder and harder to write anything, ANYTHING to get rid of that burning irritation of emptyness. That emptyness is hell a taunting, that your mind cant incoperate the words into sentences, it drives you to madness taht you cant think of one idea, you cant even ramble your mind is trapped in an endless abyss of darkness. You pray for one shining word to send your mind down one route and beg for it to keep going until you can finally click into place with the words your using and all of a sudden you get behind the words you twist them and tear them into your world. A sigh of relief looks like your mind is back on track, for now and you keep writing because you fear by the time you hit the next full stop, the wave will crash down with it and your world will fall apart and once again you’ll be confronted by that dark abyss…


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