The reason I started this diary is to post my poems, but lately i juss cant find the courage to pick up a pencil and write them on something. I juss CANT DO IT. Im drained emotionally to the point that I cant even write anything. BUT, sumthing tells me its not that im drained, its sumthing more than that blocking evry thought from going on paper. I reeli dont know what to do? WRITER'S BLOCK, maybe... I'm almost sure sumthing serious is wrong with me. CAN ANY1 HELP ME? I dont know...right now I feel useless and somewhat used. Satisfaction is a word i shall never speak again...There's no satisfaction in my life at this point. Should I just end this right here or shall I continue...w/e was started. This is soo me...I reeli dont wanna be me right now. I wanna be sumthing else. I Shall End This Entry With This NOTE; --->loque paso, paso thybroken, Sophia {Love = a word said so many times, it doesnt mean anything anymore...but how come when i say "i Love you" my heart seems to receive sumthing, a signal, to make it beat this fast.} -ME.