Fuck You Funk

I've been frozen lately. Not the kind of frozen where my girlfriend's feet are cold and she needs to wear christmas fluffy socks and rub them against the lower half of my ass frozen but fucking frozen. The last few days I have literally sat at my computer and stared at blank pages and have nothing to say. The words that seem to end up on the page are old emotionless banter and I can't seem to muster anything short of bland. My computer is slow, my room is a mess, and I haven't been to the gym in a few weeks. I'm not that kind of guy who acts like he is getting fat because he hasn't been to the gym in three days, like every other girl and their mother who go to my school, but when I work out I remember the basics. My inability to move or think has subsequently placed me on my computer chair where I am watching The Devil Wears Prada because I can't seem to watch ESPN News any longer. Somehow I have found myself slowly forming a hard shell of staleness over the back right of my shoulder and the butt of my chin like a bagel goes dry when your mother leaves it on the counter all day after breakfast was over and everyone was out the door. Obviously I am slightly embellishing my incompetence to a bit of an extreme but I just wish I could move. I feel like a goddamn ship in the harbor that freezes over. The rope that holds the ship to the harbor freezes over and there is no slack or give as the tide pulls in and out without the ship hardly swaying. I'll eventually thaw out. I go through my day hoping that some type of inspiration might show itself, and not even for aesthetic reasons either. I just want to get out of my goddamn funk. Fuck you funk. Fuck you.