There's nothing left to hope for...

And not in the happy-go-lucky way which would mean that all I wish for has come about. No, instead I'm talking about the kind of hopelessness that comes about after multiple failures. If you fail this much, it must be because you deserve it. Well, I take that back because I can't say that for sure about everyone, but I can say it with some degree of certainty about myself.

I don't think that any amount of confession though could ever make amends for the wrongs I've done. Hell, I'm halfway drunk still right now and this is the most honest I've been with myself in ages. For some random reason, I just remembered a poem I wrote years ago that seems as though if I read it right now, I'd feel a lot better but would take a lot of work to find. I think tomorrow I'll try and find the poem so that way I can post it on here.

I'm still definitely drunk. I don't know what I'm supposed to write about other than the truth, but it's about too many people who might come across this so why bother? Besides, it doesn't matter if I write about the truth now or later since that's one thing that never seems to change. Things will still be the same a week from now, just with different fixtures. Tomorrow I'll write a more comprehensive post and review of this all, but right now I feel my pen's ink itching for a piece of paper, so I leave you with the truth, or at least my truth...

I'm in love with an idea...

My motivation came and left
and took my inspiration with it
my creativity left my finger tips
the trees with fruits of invention
have turned to stone and brick
statues of former ideas sitting in the corner
waiting for spring and to be put out to pasture
so that they're story will be told
and one day we'll all be forgotten...