glaciers melting in the dead of night

I seem to have lost my desire to write... crap.  I've been feeling very deadened and removed lately, distant.  I seem to have hit a "dry spell", both in my life and my writing.  I don't know why this has been happening to me of late... getting to about 100 pages on a book or whatever and then just losing interest and continuing.  It's like I'm back in grade school, when I would write a page and get bored of the story, bored and unmotivated and discouraged because I'd think, you can do better than this shit, can't you?  And I'd imagine the perfect beginning to the perfect story and I'd start writing and realize I had nothing to follow the perfect beginning.  That's the real reason I went through so many notebooks as a child, not because I actually wrote that much, but because I couldn't for the life of me keep my passion for a story up enough to finish it.  Maybe I'm just out of the purge stage and into binging again.  But I must finish it.  I know I must.

I'm just feeling inarticulate lately.

I was angry when I met you, I think I'm angry still
don't worry, baby, no need to fight,
don't worry, baby, we'll be alright
this is the noise, keeps me awake, my head explodes and my body aches
PUSH IT
make the beats go harder
push it, you can do it, come on, prove it, nothing to it
come on, use it, let's get through it, come on, push it, you can do it