Inspiration eludes me. Whilst watching George Saunders’ interview on his writing process, I’m shocked at how little of his valuable advice is fusing into me. I am keen to learn but my present disposition is such that no external or internal motivation is willing to be grounded. I am so detached from myself and my sense of reality that everything seems trivial if not entirely futile. I am aboard a slowly sinking raft, amidst wide stretches of water, the notion of drowning is inevitable and distressing yet I am not seeking any shores.