Somewhere far away, in the depths of my mind, lies an inspiration switch. You know, we all have it. The switch that makes you want to get up out of bed every morning, and live? That reason behind why you do the things you do? Inspiration. That switch for me has officially turned off at the moment, and I’ve no strength to pull the lever to “on.” My inspiration to write is long dead, leaving me with a some what of a permanent writer’s block. It used to be, I turned on my computer, opened notepad, and words just flew out of my fingers and on to the screen of the computer. Now? It’s like everything I type up is done with so much effort.

You were my inspiration- my reason to write. You were the reason behind all my little quirks. I feel like none of that means anything to me anymore. It used to be, when I thought of you, a spark in my heart just lit up. Now, the sound of your name effects me no more. It’s rather disappointing. I used to cry so hard, and now tears just don’t want to come out. In fact, your name is just bland. It means nothing. It’s another thing in existence. Much like my creativity at the moment: gone, and floating away. And which each coming day, I suppose I just don’t want to do anything anymore.

Nightmares are always a million times better than dreams. It’s almost as if though I’d prefer to have a heart-breaking nightmare, rather than a sweet happy dream. You know what dreams are? Dreams are nothing but deceptions. Good dreams are the biggest liars. Why? Why would you want to have a good dream? To get your hopes up? This morning I woke up smiling, only to get that smile wiped off my face, when I realized that true happiness is only with me between the hours of 11pm and 6am. The dream deceived me. I thought everything was okay this morning. For a minute there, I felt wonderful. But it was all one big fat lie.

How are nightmares good? Nightmares are amazing. They make you wake up feeling terrified and scared. Nightmares make your appreciation level shoot through the roof. You become thankful for everything, and suddenly you get a burst of happiness when you realize your nightmare isn’t real.

Nights when I don’t have good dreams are days when I feel best. Nights when I have the best, most wonderful dreams are the days that turn out to be the worst of days for me.

Conclusion? Nightmares are better than dreams.