I’m beginning to think that my fuse has burned out, and I’m afraid to look over my shoulder to see how long ago it’s been since I’ve written a decent story or poem. Fuck, actually, I don’t even want to remember the last time I wrote a decent poem. It’s been ages, actually. Every time I summon the courage to write something on paper, it begins and ends in disaster. What I need is another outlet for my frustration. I’ve tried music and the only thing I’ve learned from that lesson is I’m completely and utterly tone-deaf. Which isn’t so much as a surprise because I’ve known it for years now. I mean, if the only thing you can sing in key is Marilyn…