The Beautiful, Unpredictable Phenomenon of Bitching
So yesterday I finally went into all the frustrating reasons shit just isn’t working with the rewrite, aka, I couldn’t find my motivation. But hey, once breaking it down, acknowledging that I’m bored–so fucking bored rewriting this book that was done what, 2 years ago now–I woke up today not as blocked.
The psyche is a strange, mysterious, sometimes predictable place. Sometimes there’s just something inside that wants to be heard. It doesn’t have to be an important damn message (I’m bored!) but it’s important to actually hear it. Because when you don’t hear it, the psyche holds you back, it drags you down, demanding attention like a squeaky cat again and again until you finally just stop what you’re doing and face it (or go into some sort of crazed rage.)
Bitching and ranting is an important part of being human, and damn, the Internet has made that fucking difficult. Because you can’t just bitch on the Internet like you’re talking to yourself. No, people show up and either judge, or agree, or want to fight you on your totally irrational opinion because all shit born out of emotions is beautifully irrational and it’s just a mess. Most people write shit down to understand what they’re thinking, but when you read words in front of you–even words you didn’t write–they become personal messages specifically to each and every reader who shows up, and their reactions can be big.
I should probably write stuff in a little journal or something, but I feel like it would defeat the purpose of letting everyone know I’m still alive. Alive and kinda bored because I want to get back to writing dirty porn instead of this very fun, interesting, crazy shifter love story of characters I absolutely adore. I know, it’s irrational, yet it’s true. Doing the same damn thing every day is redundant and my brain is fighting for freedom.
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