I don’t know what it is, but today (so far already) and yesterday seem to have been negative, dry and pessimistic. I think it’s the constant emails, the pitching, asking, begging, wanting to: ‘just write’, but being sunk by the contiunous need to sell myself to those with no money to pay me. I need to pay my bills and there is only so much ‘lovely’ and smiley being you can bestow before it becomes redundant. I believe in the talents of those I have worked with immensely and respect many of these with an unending joyousness. I have joyousness, but I also seem to have occasional, hideous despair. I know this is the nature of the pen yielding beast. I want the beast more than the riotous riddler knows. Yet he’s giving me little and sometimes I feel empty. I feared a day would come like this, with a post a day. The ups and downs. Hopefully I will emerge from the well with spiraling eloquence. It would appear it gets a little deeper every time I fall down.
Only this song by Little Dragon will do for now.