I refuse to write another story. I absolutely refuse. This will not become a story. I refuse to let this become a story. Yes! I am succeeding! It is not becoming a story. Whoo-hoo!

I will not write any more stories today. No more stories. There will be no plot, no conflict, no nothing. Yes! Still no story. This is very encouraging. If I can keep myself from writing a story, I can do anything! I could learn every single language in the world! That would be a great accomplishment. A great advantage is, I could travel to any place in the world. No worries about not being able to communicate. That would be fun! The only problem is, I don't have the money to travel to any place in the world.

Uh-oh. I think that was a conflict. Am I typing a story? Yikes! I am! I should have known I couldn't stop myself from typing a story. The way I indented the first paragraph should have been a giveaway. The way I titled this thing is a BIG giveaway.

Face it, Helen. You can't keep yourself from writing. There are way too many things you want to say. So how come I don't really talk a lot? I guess it's because no one records my conversations. I need to have my thoughts put down on paper.

Argh. WHY CAN'T I KEEP MYSELF FROM WRITING?!! I think it would be ironic if I die one day because I go mad from not being able to write. Ooh. How could that happen? Hmm. A paper shortage? Maybe people will outlaw the killing of trees. Maybe I'll become handicapped. I'll have to learn to type with my feet or nose. It would also be ironic if any of this actually happened in the future. It would be even more ironic that I predicted it would be ironic.

Oh, great. That turned into one of those chain reaction things that I hate.

Well, this story is complete. It's got the status quo, the conflict, and the climax. This is the denouement.

Hee hee.