Drafts 1-8

They told me 'put your heart and soul into your writing,' so I did. But it bored me to tears; my grand statements about how I saw the beauty of the universe in the reflection of the spoon that I was using to eat cornflakes, or just how much inner torment I was experiencing, were so, so pointless. Everyone has pondered the mysteries of life at three AM over cereal. Everyone has experienced crushing despair for some banal reason or another. Your heart and your soul are the same as everyone else's. Fuck your heart and soul. Language is more interesting than that.