I’m so sick of feeling, but I know my work would suffer if I stopped being a babbling, neurotic mess.

I haven’t written much lately. I finished that one story that is going to be published in the ‘zine…. I re-read it and I hate it, but I hate just about everything right now so I’m a shit judge.

Maybe I’d be a better writer if I had a lobotomy.

Or a colonic (no seriously what is going on with my bowels).

Or maybe I should stop drinking so much caffeine. Or just stop concerning myself with thankless tasks (writing).

I don’t mean that. I get waves where I feel totally confident in my career choice, but then it dissolves into self doubt and malice.

if my last post wasn’t obvious enough

I HAVE WRITERS BLOCK AND I AM DEAD ON THE INSIDE

i was thinking about writing a ya novel about a girl in middle school and base it off my experiences.

like, she has a unibrow, terrible acne all over her body, no self esteem, rashes because of her constant state of panic, thinks she a witch who can practice black magic, wears those pants with all the chains and shit hanging off, wishes she was sid vicious, and cries like every day

I’m trying to keep this new story under 1,000 words

and I’m trying to watch Marnie on Youtube

and the movie is making me want to change SO MUCH OF WHAT I ALREADY HAVE

I’VE BEEN IGNORING MY CRAFT

I’m officially a published poet.