Everyone's asleep except me. And you.

Pointless

Pointless

Right now, the writing feels pointless.

I know that it (the writing) is for me alone, but I am wanting to share it and I’m depressed about its value.

Meaningless. Vain. Unhelpful.

The sand is pouring away from an hourglass that is broken and there is nothing to catch it.

The Good

The Good

Crummy

Crummy