Kris-02

I'm feeling slightly creative and a friend suggested maybe I should do some writing but I'm not feeling creative enough. Im suffering withdrawels from the xtremly addictive Twilight series and Edward Cullen... yes I am a sad being who would rather live in this fictional world (atm anyway). The truth is these books have offered me a much needed escape from the boredom that is my life, now that I have finished them I have nothing. I am bored! Bored with life! Super Super Super BORED! and yes it is sad, very sad...

Edward Cullen = the perfect man (too bad hes a fictional character)! but I am left thinking, when will I stumble across my perfect man and how cool would it be if he was a vampire, uber sexy! haha... (thats for you von if your reading) ha!.

All in all, I am... Bored! Lonely and feeling completly unloved!

I live a sad existance, someone save me! (where are you prince charming?!) lolz... I've got to stop living in fantasy

Wednesday, it is the highlight of my week. Wednesday is payday and this brings me much joy. And like every other payday, I planned on venturing out into the chilly winter weather to spend my hard earned money that was burning in my pocket. Today I was treating myself to a full head of foils (I was going to get my hair done).

So I got my hair done, I brought a CD and DVD and various products for my hair. In no less than 2 hours I had managed to spend just little under $200. I seemed happy with myself and headed home. But when I got home, moaning over the fact that I had just been called into work, I looked in the mirror at my new hair and I realised that deep down a head full of foils hadn't really made me feel any better. Deep down I didn't feel anymore fulfilled.

I began to realise that it would seem that life really did not have much purpose. Was this to be my life, a continuous circle of materialistic nothingness? I worked only to spend my money on those little material items, only to be left wondering is there more to life than this?

It would seem that I have reached that point in my life where I am left asking, what is the mere meaning of life? What is the point of our existence?

All I know is that the sun will rise tomorrow and I will rise from a blissful slumber to work yet another day only to spend my hard earned money the following Wednesday. And so the cycle continues.

It seems like that latley I find myself staring at my computer screen struggling to think of anything decent to write. Therefore I believe I am suffering from serious and frustrating writers block. I find myself bashing away at the key board for what seems like hours only to discover that I have written less than a paragraph of jumbeled words. But is suffering from serious and frustrating writers block necessarily a bad thing?

  When I write, I express my emotions and it would seem that I can only write anything decent and heartfelt when I am in a miserable mood. I don't write when I am happy nor when I am severly depressed (as my mind is too scattered to do so), just when I am miserable. I am not miserable... so my frustrating writers block will continue... sigh,