I hate nights like this. It’s Thursday night. I haven’t written since Monday.

You’d think I have far too much work behind me to doubt my talent. You’d think I’ve put way too much time into this, to ever think it was a mistake.

You’d think. Even though I know damn well I was meant to be a writer, and I couldn’t stop if I tried–tonight I have to wonder. It’s been THREE DAYS since I wrote. Every night I sit down at my computer and I stare at it.

I open the file and I read. It’s all crap. I read it as fast as I can, trying to get to where I stopped, and I just want to delete it all. Fuggit. Forget it. It’s CRAP.

Yes, I know it’s not. I KNOW it. But I can’t believe that tonight. I don’t feel it.

It’s all crap.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll just go the hell to bed and feel sorry for myself.

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 31st, 2007 at 21:33 and is filed under Writing Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.