Much Ado About Nothing

There is an inexplicable force that clogs my mind whenever I feel the need to express myself candidly. Essaying to write essays is one of them. In such event, mental sirens would set off and a flashing of red DANGER sign with visions of dire consequences compromising the sanctity of my poise would taunt me. My head would swim, my eyesight turn bleary and my conscious thought would drift into a slow comatose state until I am forced to submit to the will of the body.

Maybe I ought to write before I did the three movie marathon today. I could have explored important world related issues like the bickering over Iphone 5 and Android online or how Chrome is better than Safari.

Or maybe I won’t because I am so negative, I keep censoring my words till my writing resolve wears down that I cease the attempt entirely.

Contemplation devoid of personal traits blighted with negativity makes a stilted writing. Indeed. Ugh. I can’t do this anymore.

I’ve reached the final stage of my internal war. My head is drooping. I am, as usual at the losing end.  I’m succumbing, succumbing, succumbing to the will of my body. I have to sleep. Good night.


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