Emotion

Okay. So as an artist (okay, okay, a writer), I should love this horrible emotional restless longing that I hate undergoing.

I know, I know. Emotional teenager girl, I am. If you don't want to read it then don't. And if you do decide to read and it's shit horrible, I apologize but I feel slightly mentally unrested at the moment and therefore I cannot be trusted to construct anything worthwhile at all.

See? Did that sentence make any sense to you? Chances tell me no.

But okay. So I was saying that as a writer I should love feelings like this because it easily allows angst to become visible on the page and out of my head, but as a human being I most definitely do not like feeling like this.

If I trusted cyberspace I would post details, thereby making this post a tiny bit more interesting, but seeing as how cyberspace is a horrible, horrible, thing that claims thousands of lives a year (I know that is a dumb statistic which makes absolutely no sense and that I just made up because it sounds cool), I will not, or EVER post interesting details on this blog, thereby making it as horrible and Boring as a blog could possibly be.

Thank you and wish me luck during this unsavorable time of my emotional instability.

I'm sorry for the long words. But in a very strange and un-understandable (and yes I know that's not a word), they make me feel somewhat in control of things.

Written words are some of the best therapy I've ever come across, so que vivan las palabras.

Gracias, y hasta luego

Con amor,
Emilia