Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.


You know the feeling: the dash appears and disappears, over and over. Again and again. And it reminds me of myself and my own mind, currently filled with thoughts and ideas ready to be typed down and looked at like they’re some solid, palpable, real thing. But when I actually do sit down, fingers set neatly on the keyboard and eyes locked on the screen, all left to see is a white, blank space. No words. No letters. No literary devices. No nothing. So ironic: full mind, empty fingers.

Hey buddy, there’s a line mocking me too.


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