So here I am, manning the circ desk, watching one of the homeless mentally ill people that like to camp out at the public computers for hours on end, writing another 3000 word missive on how the world is out to get her. I've read her rambling, inane, badly spelled diatribes from time to time (she posts these things to a blog, donchaknow), and while they make abso-fucking-lutely no coherent sense whatsoever, it never ceases to amaze me that she'll sit there for two, three, four or more hours at a time. Writing. Non. Stop.
I cannot figure out for the life of me why I'm completely unable to make myself sit down and write. I've got all these ideas and thoughts and sounds and words and stories and quips bouncing around in my echo chamber of a brain, but I never get them out. Do I need to go back on Adderall again? Should I bash myself repeatedly in the head until I become as crazy as her? Should I start cutting myself again as punishment for not doing what I need to do to get out of this chasm that I've dug for myself?
Damnit, Drew. Get your shit together.
No comments:
Post a Comment