mermaidpotato

Flesh and Ink
2011-10-31 02:13:47 (UTC)

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I've always liked the idea of leaving breadcrumbs on the internet anonymously, so that no matter how famous I become or what anyone I know thinks of me, people can read it and I'll just be another person. Mind, neither has become an issue yet.

The reminder email about this place has been sitting in my inbox for a while, and it's that same romantic streak that keeps pulling me back towards the idea. I just finally decided to say what the heck and write a little. The last post is, honestly, rather embarrassing, but I'll leave it there for non-existent posterity.

This probably won't involve my writings. It will likely just be me whining. Because I'm such an angsty teenager, boo hoo hoo </sarcasm>.

Really. I wouldn't want to inflict random bouts of who-even-knows-what on my friends. Sending it out in the form of zillions of ones and zeros puts things in perspective a little. Somehow. Because I'm weird.

I really should be writing. I promised my co-author that I'd have my part ready by tomorrow. It's the latest in an ever-delayed stream of deadlines. But just thinking about it makes me tired. The story is stale and I have trouble relating to the main character. I want a fresh start. It would surely be so refreshing, though, to be free of the manacles of guilt that have plagued me for years now. YEARS. That's how much time and thought we've poured into this. And I want to lock it away and be done with it. I just... just... SDFRKHJSDGLSDFJ.

I should go write. For her sake, if not mine. What to do for inspiration, though? I don't want to write crap and call it done. That's not what I do. The whole project needs... a breath... of... fresh......... air.

How cold was it outside, again?




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