Son of a-mother-piece of-
I'm exhausted right now. I feel broken. That's the best word for it, I think. Something that I thought was over a year ago just got dredged up again. Scars got opened back up and now I'm raw and jumpy and irritated.
If you've ever been cleaning up automotive or machinery parts and caught your hand on a grinder, that's how I feel emotionally right now.
I have so much writing that I want to do. No. I need to write. There are so many story ideas, so much to get down on paper. Deadlines to meet. Stories to submit. Characters waiting for me to breathe them into being.
But now, I just need to curl up somewhere warm and safe and hold on to the shreds of happiness I can muster forward.
I don't understand why something completely unsuccessful, something that was so clearly a mistake needed to be reperpetrated, almost exactly a year from the time it was first attempted.
If you've ever been cleaning up automotive or machinery parts and caught your hand on a grinder, that's how I feel emotionally right now.
I have so much writing that I want to do. No. I need to write. There are so many story ideas, so much to get down on paper. Deadlines to meet. Stories to submit. Characters waiting for me to breathe them into being.
But now, I just need to curl up somewhere warm and safe and hold on to the shreds of happiness I can muster forward.
I don't understand why something completely unsuccessful, something that was so clearly a mistake needed to be reperpetrated, almost exactly a year from the time it was first attempted.