When I wrote before, it was because I needed an outlet for my emotions.
Whether they were morbid or buoyant.
But now, it seems that I have found that I cannot feel.

I suppose this is why I haven't wrote.

I can't talk about how infatuated I am with a mysterious man because I do not have that person to write about. And I could not feel infatuation even if I did have a lover.  
I am unable to express the depressive ambiance coming from within because I am sure it has dissolved by now.

I'm no longer the pathetic being I was just months ago.
I've evolved into something lesser than a sadness-consumed commodity and I've concluded a robotic, cold substance was left after the despondency faded.

And if this is all that I am, than how could I write anything worth reading.