I have started numerous drafts, and nothing seems to really work. I don’t find things interesting to write about, or I feel I’m not up to the topic. So here i am at the Brooklyn library in Flatbush just typing for the practice of writing SOMETHING.
I don’t know. I don’t like it. This is the 87th post and I don’t know how I got there, or why.
I feel so obnoxious all the self expression and promotion of it. I don’t know if I’m just in a mood these past few days.
Why do I trash myself? Why do any of us do it? So counterproductive
Maybe writing, and inspiration is fluid, with all the changes afoot in my life. I shouldn’t force it, there might be some injury.
