well, i've made it. i'm in WA with my boyfriend. we have a cute little apartment in the historic part of town, in an old hotel building they converted. there is a small elevator that scares me.

i am restless.

i've been here a month, and it's been good, it has its rough moments, but nothing that is catastrophic. and still, i find myself completely... blank, even in spite of being ridiculously happy.

there's no creative fire inside me, none of the spark that used to drive me in my art, and my writing. i won't lie, i've been in a huge slump these past 2 years, and only got out of it for a couple months before i backslid again.

i honestly don't know what it is that makes me fall to pieces like that, but it happens to me every time that i find my niche.

i am stuck.