I've rarely been so disgusted with something I've written.
I'm about to finish my Bierce essay/paper, and boy, does it suck. Mind you, I'm not saying it will get a bad grade necessarily. But it has nearly no real content whatsoever; it's the most pointless thing I've ever written in a uni context. I can sort of see how it would be possible to make it better, but that would require such amounts of extra time and, likely, more research - not to mention at least ten more pages on top of an already over-long 27 - that I don't think it's worth it, especially seeing as how I really don't care.
But it's painful. I really have to force myself to continue, constantly give myself mental kicks in the ass. I'm not good at producing crap intentionally. The writer's block of the last few weeks was largely my inner perfectionist refusing to cooperate with a conscious attempt to fudge things.
I've got my inner perfectionist wrestled down now, but oh, it still hurts. I can see the gaping holes in what I'm writing, the way nothing really hangs together or forms anything approaching a coherent argument, and there's a strong urge in me to fix it. Only reason is telling me not to. It's not worth investing any more time in; it's 27 pages of wasted time and energy and brain cells as it is. (Though to be honest, I don't think I wasted many brain cells on this, really. It was written with my brain on less than half its capacity, and it reads like it.)
But it's painful. I really have to force myself to continue, constantly give myself mental kicks in the ass. I'm not good at producing crap intentionally. The writer's block of the last few weeks was largely my inner perfectionist refusing to cooperate with a conscious attempt to fudge things.
I've got my inner perfectionist wrestled down now, but oh, it still hurts. I can see the gaping holes in what I'm writing, the way nothing really hangs together or forms anything approaching a coherent argument, and there's a strong urge in me to fix it. Only reason is telling me not to. It's not worth investing any more time in; it's 27 pages of wasted time and energy and brain cells as it is. (Though to be honest, I don't think I wasted many brain cells on this, really. It was written with my brain on less than half its capacity, and it reads like it.)