A mouth-full of nothing

It’s funny how sometimes the things that run in my mind seem to flow so much easier when I write them in a different language… Often in English; but then again I did live in the United Kingdom for a good half a dozen years didn’t I? Go figure!
The things that run inside my mind… What a mind job that is, my mind! A real mouth full, a killer that is!
It occurs to me that I’ve just been improvising with the keyboard for the past few minutes but I have not written much of what I wanted to write, what was it about anyway…? All I recall is dodging the dyslexia with recurrent hits on the "delete" key only to re-write what I’d already written in a way that didn’t seem wrong to me at first sight. Anyway, yeah, the things in my mind…
Fuckin’hell, what a void, I just got hit by a blank and nothing coherent seems to come out other than this frantic nonsense tapped on the keys faster than I normally would… poor attempt to keep up the pace with the neural synapses, which are being sped up by the emotion coming from the sound system, the laser-guided emotion magnifier that I chose to play on the CD player. My emotions however, are turning to blanks, to little bits of nothingness that I insist in spitting out, attempts to… Trying, I’m trying, It just seems I’m not trying enough, or just trying too hard! But every attempt is another miss and I just keep on doing it, like firing in the dark (I’ll end up shooting myself on the foot soon), hence the expression, blanks!
Blanks, here’s something to talk about. I think I’ve been firing blanks for too long.. Like in the movie, that particular movie that I like so much…. “I came too far, too far… But I’m too close”. Inspiring for me that expression is, I always added to it, silently in my mind “…too close to give up!”
Man I hate givin’up things, I just hate it, I detest the way I feel about myself when I have to give something up. The reason may be profound and engraved in the depths of my personality traits, but it can be summed up through the contrast between the commitment I normally put into whatever venture I get myself into, and the empty feeling of void that arises uncontrollably whenever I give something up… It’s just a fucking waste I tell you, and I fucking hate doing it! Makes me feel like I’m losing the game, grasping for a breath of fresh air, I don’t know, drowning maybe, asphyxiating, God knows what feeling… But a very annoying one it is and that is for sure very close to what I am feeling… which caused the accelerated mind job, the speedy typing and the anxiety of solving this fucking mess I got myself into, leading me to do not much than typing at the speed of light and making no sense at all of what the fuck I’m writing about (ie, the stuff going around in circles in my mind without letting me get nowhere).
And there you go, I’ve practically written a whole page and said nothing!
-Fuck!