There's no ghost in this machine, I make my own mistakes
It's crazy to me.
Sitting down to write now...it's hard. Called it ghostly to someone, trying to explain what losing it all did.
I've been treating losing my harddrive like it cheated on me - it doesnt matter where it is in the room, my eyes wont go there. Cant seem to think too hard about it - never lost anyone, but I wonder if this feels a bit like this, the turns the brain is willing to make to avoid being reminded.
Fuck.
The feature looms and I cant imagine just repeating the same show, but I dont have anything else. The pieces that were near are gone, heck, I might not even have all the work from that show. I'm...baffled. I lost a book. A fucking book. Everytime I sit down to start again, it's.....starting again. Like I blew a knee out and I have to learn to walk again.
A FUCKING BOOK.
I used to be able to confidently state the worst day of my life. Now I dont know. And I give a fuck all to be reminded, as some people have, that 'well, if that's the worst thing that's ever happened to you...you're lucky'
sure. fine. someone else has had something bad happen to them, thereby invalidating the loss of what, to this point, I would comfortably call my life's work.
Have been sitting in this place where I was wondering if I was ever going to BE something.
If I ever had a thing I could do worth noting to a stranger.
How to tell the stores again? How when I was so sure it was the right way?
How do you re-write it?
Can't shake this shit.
Sitting down to write now...it's hard. Called it ghostly to someone, trying to explain what losing it all did.
I've been treating losing my harddrive like it cheated on me - it doesnt matter where it is in the room, my eyes wont go there. Cant seem to think too hard about it - never lost anyone, but I wonder if this feels a bit like this, the turns the brain is willing to make to avoid being reminded.
Fuck.
The feature looms and I cant imagine just repeating the same show, but I dont have anything else. The pieces that were near are gone, heck, I might not even have all the work from that show. I'm...baffled. I lost a book. A fucking book. Everytime I sit down to start again, it's.....starting again. Like I blew a knee out and I have to learn to walk again.
A FUCKING BOOK.
I used to be able to confidently state the worst day of my life. Now I dont know. And I give a fuck all to be reminded, as some people have, that 'well, if that's the worst thing that's ever happened to you...you're lucky'
sure. fine. someone else has had something bad happen to them, thereby invalidating the loss of what, to this point, I would comfortably call my life's work.
Have been sitting in this place where I was wondering if I was ever going to BE something.
If I ever had a thing I could do worth noting to a stranger.
How to tell the stores again? How when I was so sure it was the right way?
How do you re-write it?
Can't shake this shit.