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This f*cking  heat makes me sick. This f*cking Australian heat that makes you want to take your skin off  it's so damn hot. And believe me, if there was a way I could I would.  

I've got writers block. I think its natures way of telling me I was never a writer. Why can't I make this go anywhere? It goes round and round in circles and never finds a conclusion. The characters run rampant across the pages doing what they want and I can't control them.
I can write perfectly well in my head. When I'm out having coffee paragraphs write themselves in my mind but when I sit down to actually get some work done, nothing. I get a mildly coherant sentence. That's all. I just want to make this work. It's driving me nuts.