Hand shitting and the occasional clap

I had a thought today, what if I don’t get over my burnout completely until the one year anniversary ticks over. That’s next May! Right now I have no desire to write anything (despite writing this post) in fact, I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.

And I was starting to improve only a month or so ago too. I had slogged it out and got a novella out and did a draft of another, but maybe that was the reason. I pushed myself too much too soon.

The idea of story creation seems tedious and I’m having feelings of inadequacy. But that’s ridiculous because I’ve improved so much in recent times and I got the stories mapped out. But at the same time what if I fuck it up? What if later on, I find out that there is a better way to write it? What if I’m not the right on to tell this story? (But come on I’m the one that thought it up, I’m the only one to tell it) I’m all mixed up and nothing can really do anything about it but me.

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