Well, I haven't written anything in three days. How brilliant of me. So I guess since I've got another two and a half hours of sitting, I should hammer something out. Or critique some other people who actually write what they say they're going to write.... and procrastinate writing whatever it is I'm going to write even more. 'Cause that's how I roll. Down... hills.
I think I need a book of random starter lines. So that I don't have to think of them. Because when I have to think of them I get ridiculous things like "it was snowing," "he had a heart, once," and the ever classic "The end." Yeah, I'd start something with the end. Because that's just what I do. I do things backwards. eninalalynehp. That's phenylalanine backward. I don't know why I was typing phenylalanine backward. I don't really know why I do anything, any more.
I think I'm just going to read. Nothing's coming, right now.