Just Want to Smoke, Too, but I Don't Smoke

I'm in a writing mood. What should I write about?

I don't go out so I can't write much any experience.

Nothing's much happened in the past 17 days of this new year.

Okay, I am in a writing mood, but there is nothing to write about.


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There's nothing as sweet as a husband missing his wife.


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Maybe I will just try to sleep. This writing mood is such a waste.

I want more wine.

Mother watched me carrying a glass of it and nagged, saying it was too much.
She made me put most of it back in the bottle. I only had 20 ml. I need more.

Maybe later, at midnight, when she's asleep.

I want to be drunk.


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I want to confess my love, but I can't do it while I'm sober.


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I slept earlier. I was awakened by my brother's girlfriend visiting.

I was sleeping in the living room. Now I am in my bedroom.

I couldn't go back to sleep. I want to go back to sleep.

Whatever.

I'm wasting my writing mood.