The Coroner's Note - Death of Inspiration.
Time of Death: N/A
Current Listen: The Shirelles - Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.mp3

Listening to the current song and I just remembered something of substantial depression. Lately, everything and anything will somehow come to me at the light speed of stress. Be it work, life and the people involved. Words wouldn't begin to justify the intensity of the pressure. Yet that sheer intensity has only rendered me somehow - void. Empty.

Its Ironic, really.

Everything is done and required in a rushing manner. Yet the further the track runs, the more clueless I am of where am going. Have had days where I practically dragged my feet to go to work. Whats more bothering is the fact that the cycle of this confusion has only grown more constant in recent times. Where it used to be once or twice a month - now is once or twice a week.

I've forgotten where I started and what did I start these sprints for.

Dying for Inspiration - even a tiny flicker.

Random Quote.

"The greatest trick the Devil's ever pulled was to convince the world that he doesn't exist.."

- The Usual Suspects, 1995

Same Shit Different Mouths.

Owen's a Devil. What shock.

On the heavier note - Sighs. Sighs. That's all I do. Been taking office assignments home for quite a while now. Its depressing. And this is just an out-of-nowhere, ad-hoc assignment, I haven't even started firing holes in Microsoft Excel's blank sheets just yet. And that is the real deal. The one with a hefty price tag and a deadline. The Monthly Sales Report. But then again, we were taught to prioritize, and this was something that HOC himself scratched his temple projecting at the SGM's instruction.

And it just doesn't help one bit if the surrounding fails quite miserably to grasp the situation. Its so much frustrating, it drains your drive, consumes your will at a whim. Persons firing shots at will without much less a thought, landing to conclusions absorbed by their delusions. Ass-suming. God, you're so good at flame throwing your assumptions, your mind reeks of Ne-cavity (read: Negativity).

I think am getting mushy. Mcm punde-