Tonight, she writes again...

I haven't posted anything in almost a month. In fact, I've hardly written anything at all. No ideas, no stories, no diary entries, no ranting about TV shows, no pseudo creative moments, nothing. Maybe I'm just afraid of feeling. Of failing. Of no one listening. Of no one believing, not even myself.
I'm writing now, and it doesn't really makes sense anything I'm saying, does it?...
Maybe I should just pretend everything will turn out fine. Maybe I should keep believing that this is just one of those low times in someone's life. Maybe I should just believe in anything, in everything. Even in myself.
Maybe I should just DO something about it. Maybe I should try harder. If I don't, maybe I should just let it all go, and let everything die. Maybe nothing is meant to make sense from now on. Maybe the truth of the world or of myself finally caught up with me. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up from this imperfect dream. Maybe... Maybe...