Off from school now until July 7th.

All this time, you'd figure I'd be attached to my computer by the wrists and eyeballs. I'm not. I don't know why. Either I have nothing to say or what I want to say isn't what I should be saying.

Over these six years I've learned that it does no good to force things. Yes, I can sit down at the computer and make myself write something. But it always feels wrong, and sometimes it feels like fingernails on a blackboard. When I'm not operating on real inspiration whatever I write feels flat and dead. I tried to start on the second part of the extended "Shepherds" story the other day and it just didn't feel right. So now I'm at a loss as to what to do. I don't want to waste this time. But I have nothing to say.

I think I'm depressed again. No motivation. Utter listlessness. Last night I sat in a silent house for about three hours, doing nothing. Couldn't even scrape up the energy or attention span to read. I couldn't concentrate.