If people have verbal diarrhea, I have verbal constipation. My thoughts are coming out in blurbs, spurts, and pellets of possibly somethings… but turns out its nothing but gas, and little awkward things floating around in the toilet bowl.

That’s where I’m at now. I have some great one-liners, or wittily coined words like ‘frou-frou’, and that’s it. I am incapable of writing at length about any one thing that so impressions me, and by the way, ‘frou-frou’ is hardly witty. But at this point, Its the best I can come up with.

Here’s a picture of me picking up leaves, and it also looks like I’m constipated. Very befitting to this post I thought, and its an awkward position. Very apt for this awkward stage in my life too. Oh joy, I’m making connections, at least I haven’t lost that.

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I’ve hit a great low in my writing life. So I’ve resorted to talking about my none too glamorous life, or about anything that comes to mind, just so I can get some juices flowing. Oh no, I’ve become that kind of blogger. I feel pathetic.

So in the following period, you would get a glimpse into my thought processes, and get to read very disjointed spurts of thought.

Sad face is an understatement.

Here’s a picture of happier times just to pick the mood up a bit:

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