There be a sweet spot Aarrgh . A sweet spot rite betweem my eyes and my id where my mojo crawled off and hid.
And thats when I cant make It
do what it did before.
My writes feel like I'm I
batting lefty with a hefty bag dropped over my head.
              Cant write anything past my a,b,sees. Like scratching with 10 oz gloves laced on. Fuzzy.
                          Like music underwater.
All dry.All out.
All of reasons and whys...the words..mock me while sipping brandy. Cigar smoke wafting.
Easy chair. After all no sense to it. Just verbal diarrhea. Cunning illusions...sweet nothings.