It's a cold day today. It's freezing in here, and I have nothing to get warm. I'm tempted to set something on fire just for the sake of it. Cold sure can be bitter.

A story once said that a man can do whatever he wants as long as he has enough balls. Without the balls, he is destitute and left for chance. What a little thing with so much importance. But balls aside, there is something really chilling about tonight. It's the darkness, the feeling that the Sun is dead, at least for the moment. As long as it's out of sight, it's out of existence.

I want to do something about my writing. I can't find the necessary relaxation to write fiction in here. I keep thinking that I will write something poor, and the reason is that it's going to be published for anyone to read. It doesn't matter that no one is reading this blog. I can never know. It still doesn't matter that no one know who I am, except for a few people.

I guess I'll just have to look for a "safer" environment. One idea is to install wordpress on my computer. That would give me the feeling of blogging while allowing me to write whatever I want.