so then she hit sign in. and didn't really have anything to write but felt it was worth looking into. and by 'looking into' she did mean 'trying out'. logging in with twitter didn't work, which was weird since she had already logged in there...she thought it would have been automatic. but whatever. she logged in with google instead. the first line said to just start typing. (for her sake that better mean you don't need any plan or direction or purpose. those, she has not. it is likely this could turn in to another one of her journals but since it's supposed to be in the format of a book she sincerely hopes something will turn around and start becoming a book.) it dawned on her that she switched tenses, and hastily she tried to correct it by throwing in some parenthesisiseses...(<---she can't spell that word) She used the scrolling thing on the mouse to see how long the page was. the site seemed to be under the impression that a single blank page was somehow less intimidating than an outright blank book. she did not agree. and she figured if she just typed in everything she was doing as she did it, maybe she'd feel like she accomplished something. the end of the page was still kinda far off so she couldn't say how well her plan would work. and if paragraphs were supposed to be happening she was in trouble. she didn't use those or capitalization or most typical forms of grammar and punctuation...well maybe grammar. she never really understood exactly what was involved with that. fuck. it was halfway through when she lost her groove. though to be fair, calling it a groove seemed quite a stretch. it just didn't look like the page was going to be filled. and even if it did fill, the odds of her continuing were slim. not for the first time, she wished she was proficient in flash fiction. her sister asked for the remote. well, her sister asked for the location of the remote, of which she knew not. but it worked out all right. the truth is she gave up on the writing thing before she even knew about it. it was never going to unlock anything secreted away in her head. because nothing ever was secreted away in her head. all she did was ramble and babble until she ran out room. and really it was all she intended to do from the start. and that was never going to promote creativity and artistry on a new level. or whatever. it was just going to fill up a page. a single blank virtual page. that was the goal all along. and the curtain was coming to a close. and with those few final strokes of the keyboard, it closed.