A lack of..

I'm a very confusing man. I complain, I deceive, I'm all-around not a good person. I worry about myself and care very little for the human race outside the people I do show some of my affection to. And in that instance, i realize, I'm a cold person on the exterior. I do have a warm heart, she can probably tell you that, but who else can tell you that?

That's when the cricket noise comes in.

I can't say at this point that I technically care. I don't. I don't care how people perceive me...my purpose isn't to please you, but in reality, to please my mental.

Weed
Head
Money
Pussy
Car
Clothes

Oh shit, I actually do get all of that stuff, that's the funny part. Regardless, I can't really say I'm "happy". I'm barely content. I'm not impressed with what vie accomplished; quite the contrary in fact. I do the stuff I do because I make a reasonable amount of money without...i suppose doing too much.

I cannot write a fucking book.
I cannot write poetry at will anymore.
I cannot make a studio-quality beat with the PC-based program called FL Studio.

Okay, I'm reaching with the last option haha. Seriously, a talent that I have only seems aroused when I have a muse.

I don't have such a thing.

And here I am.