when sweats and bullets have no fruition

i might not write for a while, nothing really worth writing, whoever says if you want to be a writer - write - is my sleeping muse, i had a rejection lately, he/she interpreted my piece as a sleeper, worse an underdone soap opera, i am subjecting his/her interpretation into my own interpretation and leaving my pride outside the editorial box, thank you i really needed that, i am floating on my sub par excellence, where is this frustration coming from?, i have no creative outlet lately, i stop painting because the class had ended and i am too lazy to pick up the paintbrush, i am a very restrained individual, have you ever been with one?, how did you put him/her back in the saddle of liberation?, shit i might post this dilemma on spy omegle and pitifully watch strangers disect my ass as an analytical subject, look, look, let's embrace this one, tlc, tlc, tlc, i hope i hope they approve my time off request because because i am going to the mountain, and i am going to crush this mountain of sorrow off my back, sigh, there, i am ok now, forget what i just said, erase - see you around.