The issue isn't what to write but why write at all. There must be some intent or interest that emancipated previous efforts that are hiding.

There once was this guy who barfed in his sleep in seat 18E on an Airbus a320. It led him to question his manhood and cautioned him about taking any future flights. Meantime, some lady got Airline Effew Syndrome and already is planning her next flight. There's the difference between a misanthrope and someone who lets a dog lick 'em right in their mouth. Can the simple act of collecting your thoughts and expressing them produce a salvation that otherwise might pass you by?

Arturo couldn't sing on key if his ass was his locksmith. What he could do was prioritize and and take action. One day he figured out that Junior Johnson was not a term for a youngster's dinger. It made sense then that the Holy Ghost was some kind of superstitious apparition and if your government could justify simulated drowning, I ask you, is battery cables to the testicles the next "enhanced interrogation"? I guess I just don't want to die because some worker bee didn't get the memo. Shit man, I'm not dying soon and let bygones cause you to re-examine your exremities.