getting there. or here. or.

i think its time that i started writing. i have relapsed from this for too long, and now i feel no addiction. i craved, at some point in my life, to put words into sentences. now, i had to drag my mind into this. in an empty house with a glass of water and sleepy suns playing through my laptop speakers, i am attempting to catch that sting, to push deeper. yet, i end up writing about trying to write. a pointless exercise to get to the point. the point. the point.

what?

oh i didnt mean to be so self indulgent. excuse me while i go distract myself.