Thursday, October 8, 2015
Desperation and Apples
Today I tried to write something in my book.
I am sick, and groggy and everything I wrote I hate. I just pressed Ctrl + A then pulled the trigger on the life I had breath and committed writing homicide. I kinda feel terrible.
It's most likely cause of being sick. But beyond that I wonder sometimes if its all for not. This is going to be depressing, but that's the kinda mood I'm in right now. I just killed several thousand words of story and now I have to sit here and think about what a waste of day this is.
See, I can only deal with this life, these jobs the lack of security and subtle poverty because I have a goal. But days like this, where I'm reminded that I haven't accomplished anything yet, they are almost unbearable.
I'm not looking for sympathy or pity. I'm just venting.
Here's a comic book cover I did for a story a friend and I have been working on.