[+10.11.04! || 19:47]

every time i stare at this blank message space on the create entry page, i'm clueless of what i want to fill it with. surely no one person likes to read metre-long entries of others' pitifully tragic life that can qualify for short novels. surely no pair would throw that chunk of words that only prove to be no more than ravings and rantings and undoubtedly insipid gossip a second glance. and surely no third wouldn't yawn at this piece of lecture-sounding speech either. i'm a pirate lost at sea! am i wrong to say so? the papers are constantly updating the not-so-aware-of-a-teen's-life public on this blogging fad, slapping ten tons of teens out there with the charges of turning to this online diary to spill out all in a day's troubles and counting on it to be heard, regardless of continuous warnings of the dangers posed. by assumption, i'm to be a pro at this.. blogging you say? equivalent to the absurdity of a pirate being lost at sea, i'm a black sheep. (i was going to pretend to not notice the mistake and just leave it as black horse, but nah, im okay with the sheep.) it's a perfect day, i'm out somewhere, stimulating my mind to grow larger with every piece of impressive knowledge i learn when i'm exposed to the scheming world, and suddenly inspiration infiltrates my soul, and mind you it's not just breathing i'm talking about, that's shallow inspiration. inspiration so rich with unfallable vigour that i'm propelled to pen those wise words circulating my inner thoughts. but that split second my spirited fingers curl around my beloved blue-black signo dx 0.38, those timid thoughts that dot my scarce brain would do a disappearing act and vanish so quickly i hadn't even had the chance to snap my fingers the way you do when an idea hits you with a hard thud on the skull, as if the mere act of capturing them onto paper frightens them out of their wits and sends them scrambling for their lives. yknow, like fairies, fairies like tinkerbell. with shimmering golden dust left as a trail when they flitter from window to window, wendy's window. in this case, the window of souls. it's no wonder you see one's eyes sparkle from time to time. you'd never guess what notion just popped into their minds! left abandoned by the mischievious tiny tots, i am void once again. at home, alone in my room, i enter the create entry page, and stare at the monitor until night falls. maybe once or twice, i am triumphant with a day's exhilrating events i can publish as a post and not bore people, but other than that, victory would slip away time and time again. and no, there isn't a thought-catcher for me to nab those runaway thieves that rob me of a proud entry, even if i wished for it every sunday to saturday.

all that matters, is today(: -