Emptybottle.org

You ever get that feeling when it’s like your brain is wrapped in wet towels? Dirty, warm, wet towels? Where you start a sentence, then trail off after a word or two because the expenditure of effort you predict will be necessary to actually complete it is way beyond what seems possible? Where ideas and plans, schemes and dreams, file in serried ranks through your mind, but it’s like watching a New Year’s Day parade while dozing on the sofa with a debilitating hangover and a sweaty scalp – the grandeur of it all is reduced to fuzzy snapshots, and you can’t seem to do much more than watch as they move slowly out of reach. You ever feel like what you have done isn’t all that sh-t hot, and what you’ve got planned will never come to fruition? Ever wish that some relatives would die, and leave you some goddamn money, so you could get off the treadmill, and then feel guilty about it? Have you ever gone a few days without bathing, ’cause sometimes you like the stank? Ever wish that you could actually focus your intellect on something worthwhile, but get pulled inevitably, irresistably, by the siren call of crap, and waste yet another day?
Ever piss and moan and whine in public, rather than get off your ass and actually do something?
Uhh, yeah. I have.