Perhaps I think too much but pay little attention.
I’m probably turning demented, though it would presumably be my fault for not being able to just slow down and write down my thoughts (though I must apologise for my lack lustre writing). My mind seems to have no interest with cooperating with whatever triggers my creativity or even organise the stream of thoughts. I have failed to get past the first page of a certain piece I have been working on and vexation has struck due to me being rather futile at this point. Idiosyncrasies about myself have been sorted in my head and yet, my creative ideas are unorganised. Not even a single prose nor a simple doodle from me has manifested in actuality. Alas, my frustration has driven me to reminisce about my failed opportunities, inadvertent decisions and daft schemes. Sometimes, I think that all my goals will just be goals and would probably just be asymptotic but then, there is this feeling that someday, these will all come true and more. I think about where I would be five or ten years from now and who would I still be close with. It might be said that I’m turning into a genuine lunatic for thinking too much about the future (though, this may be true) but sometimes it cannot be helped. Eventually the future will become the present and when the time comes, we would have to face what is presented.
A creative block is all it takes for someone as eccentric as me to be frustrated enough to start getting peculiar thoughts about life and strangling innocent people.
Either that or it is the heat.