I really want to write, but I'm totally void of even the beginnings of something decent to write about. Today was one of those days that I wish I had a darker, more lonely place that I could bare the real ugliness inside of me. BUT...I probably should just shut the hell up about how things just don't go the way I wish they would.

I miss my sister and I'm tired of people dying reminding me just how big that damn empty spot in my heart is. I think that's all.