Take a breath, and stop being a baby.

Odd. I bet I actually looked like that as a sprog.

ARGH! And other such rantings.

Come on. He's adorable.

Who said writing a book was easy?

Oh. No one. 

I can't disagree with no one.

The fact is, it's bloody hard. Damn near impossible, it's looking like. The laughable cliche of screwed up paper, red eyes from tears of frustration and a permanent look of defeated bemusement on your face is no longer a cliche to me.

It's a reality.

AND I HAVEN'T EVEN GOT WRITER'S BLOCK YET.

..You have to write to get writer's block. I haven't written a bean.

See I've had this idea. It's been brewing in my head for some months now. In my brain it's brilliant, it's inspired, it's GENIUS.

But the genius idea is being stubborn and refusing to nosedive out of my imagination and onto the paper.

At this very moment in time, this is me:

Only less Japanese.

It's not like I'm looking to write the world's next bestseller. I know I don't have the intellect, time, patience and evident insanity of some writers. I won't be as big as Rowling, Koontz, Oates or Shaw. I don't want to be. I don't want the fame, money, houses, sex and screaming, devoted fans.

Hang on. That all sounds pretty good.

NO.

I just want to write a bloody book. I want to sail through it, all smiles and light bulb moments. Writing should be a pleasurable experience.

HA.

We've heard of starving artists. So overwhelmed by their own brilliance, sacrificing food for pots of industrial paint. Rib cages, stubble, worn out jeans and rainbow paint thrown with crippling angst onto a cheap canvas.

How romantic.

Now I'm daydreaming. Great.

Several minutes later...

It's back to the drawing board. (Never understood that phrase.)

Back to pulling out my hair, resisting the urge to repeatedly headbutt the computer screen whilst screaming WHY ME??!! more like.

Oh, I am dramatic.

Me? Who am I?

See, I would keep this an anonymous blog.

Like all the cool kids.

But I'm not cool. By any stretch of the imagination.

So here's a little glimpse into my world.

First and foremost, my name isn't Nelbens. Of course. That's just cruel. That part I'm keeping anonymous, so I guess I'm kinda cool. Or not, whatever.

I'm a 20 year old unemployed female, bitter about the state of the economy, forever cynical and quite sarcastic. I'd like to think of myself as witty, but my witty comebacks are usually insults. Involving copious amounts of curse words and a few low blows thrown in for good measure.

I like coffee, a lot of coffee, trashy movies, trashier books, sleeping and music. 

I can usually be found in bed with a book, in bed listening to music, pulling my hair out trying to write the world's next bestseller (sometimes in bed) or drinking coffee...where else but in bed?

I like to be comfortable.

I like make up. I like baking cupcakes and handing them out like a second rate Suburban housewife. I like socialising to some degree. I like paranormal stuff, ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. I like Ric O'Barry, Shannon Hoon and Robert Smith. I like monogamy and romance. I like how impulsive I am.  I like drinking alone and listening to music and thinking how much better it sounds after that 8th vodka.

I hate how indecisive I am.

I hate how I never finish projects (this is boding well for my book...)

I hate Marine Captivity. Free Willy? They did that and he died. Still ain't changing my mind.

I hate the phrase ''I'm just your typical girl.''

No, you're not.

There's no such thing.

My name is Nelbens, I'm a stone's throw away from being totally nuts and at times I think I'm there. I make waves in the bath, wish I still had Barbies to play with and stand in front of the mirror for hours despairing over how much my belly wobbles when I move.

Hey, atleast I'm not an alcoholic.

Oh, and I like zombies. Probably to an unhealthy degree.

BRAAAIIIINS!

Yeah... I could use some of those.