Sacred Haven of Debauchery

It’s a shame that in the last three or four years, I haven’t felt any desire to read fiction or any literature at all, even though I’ve repeatedly tried to find something interesting that I would enjoy. Right now, I’m outlining a short story, and I must say, even with a small spark of inspiration, the ability to construct beautiful sentences, find synonyms, and create elaborate descriptions has significantly diminished. It’s funny, although I never had any particular talent in this area, but the fact that the amount of literature read has such an impact on one’s writing style is somewhat discouraging. Or maybe it just seems that way to me now, but there is definitely some truth to it.