The One About Not Writing

I can name 30,000 things off the top of my head that I will find a way to do instead of writing. Making a list of 30,000 things would be number one.

I don’t know why I fight it.  It doesn’t make sense, because once I remove the distractions and dig in past thought’s epidermal layer, I love it.  Of course, if I kept to only doing things that made sense, my son wouldn’t be here.  Or the bajillion scars I have circling my knees and elbows like dish soap down the drain. Or like that analogy. It just don’t make sense.

I’m going to give NaNoWriMo a try, and pit myself against myself. Seeing as how much I love competition and love beating myself up, this should go splendidly.  Self-loathing if I lose, or a viable work if I win.  Place your bets, folks.

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Yeah, I might know a little about that.

TL;DR Check out the meme.

If I could just shut my brain like I do my mouth, I could accomplish something.  Don’t wish in one hand and shit in the other and expect to have anything.  It’s damn rook mistake.

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