Write something. Anything. Sentence. Paragraph. Short Story. Novel. Epic. Anything.

I camped on the floor. Couldn’t write. I was all balled up inside. Afraid the writer’s block is creeping in again….

from four until seven.

wrote about 14+ pages worth. we’ll se by morning light if anything’s usable.

overall, i buckled and just wrote. and it worked. might be breaking through.

new notebook is a bit disappointing, though. i want to like it, so i am sticking with it. for now. we’ll see about it. (the pages come out too easily)

from seven pm until nine pm this evening
i mostly re-read and edited something
but i wrote a bit
about the thing i always write about

7 – 9 m and w; 3 -7 s i will be writing something. Anything. Sentence. Paragraph. Short Story. Novel. Epic. Anything. Discipline is key. Making my own.

wrote four pages of poetry. i’m not dead!

She can’t know
what she
does to the inside.
Women alone are
not enough; the ones
I like must emulate
another.
Hair stands up
straight and
eyes always
a big intense depth.

i smell of a bar. i used to drink a lot. i used to write a lot.

“My ambition is handicapped by my laziness.”

applicable.

I hate the internet.

Because everyone thinks they can write.

Everyone does.

Everyone wants to.

...fuck.

a fake newspaper article for an invitation for work. it made the client cry (in a good way). i worked on it for a couple hours. very satisfactory. however, nothing creative, whatsoever.