Write Right.

I'm going to force myself to write a piece about the desert island of the soul. My feelings of solitude, loneliness, and separation experienced on an every day basis. Instead of the bodily separation of a shipwrecked man; my protagonist will be isolated amongst incalculable number of men but with the same feelings of stranded abandonment.

My struggle.
Wish me luck.
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Too much going on in this head;
enough to constitute nothing.

A Declaration.

My pathetically pointless narcissism is the only thing keeping me alive.
The declaration not said in the traditional sense of the 'One day I might achieve something' vanity but simply because I can't compose an articulate enough farewell note that would be at least of some true representation of myself. It'd be my last stand as a perfectionist I suppose...
My excuse to procrastinate? I'll do it soon, I promise.