i'm right here...writing to waste away the time i waste away waiting...maybe a brilliant idea will hit me in one of these idle moments and i'll hit the craetive bullseye...all i can do is hope, because every passing day intensifies the dejection in my mind. the feeling of being worthless is always lurking near the surface like a shark, ready to rear its head at the slightest opportunity...this is all counter-productive thinking, and yet i'm a slave to it...i hate it.