…but I can’t…
Hey Sean…What the fuck is wrong with me?
It’s been over a month since my last post and good chunk of time before that one as well. I remember posting everyday. Sometimes twice a day and then…
It all dried up.
I feel dried up.
I have so many ideas tumbling through my mind. So many drafts waiting to be finished. And they will wait. And wait.
Because something is wrong with me.
I don’t know what it is. It’s not writer’s block–I have ideas. It’s not so much a lack of time; I can write fairly quickly without editing.
Is it laziness? Depression?
Am I lazy and depressed and therefore can’t write?
Not even an update?
Not even one little love story?
Not one tale about my crazy past lives and the crazy people who have passed through it?
Not even about the scandal? (I’m DYING to write about the scandal.)
What about my Mom? She’s been in the hospital for two weeks. Two surgeries. Seventy-Five years old.
Why can’t I bring myself to write about her?
Or my never-ending divorce. Or my post-remission recovery. Or my newest lipstick. Or my…
Or my anything?
I think I’m lost in this swirl of emotions and I just can’t pin something down.
I need some motivation, please.
I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I know, I know… I’m not the best, and I’m certainly not the worst. But with lulls like this, how could it be?
How could it be?