I’m not sure I know what a life worth living is anymore. It’s been a month and a half since I arrived back home from Germany.
Nothing exciting has happened since then, except for life. There were taxes to fill out and doctors appointments to make and work to manage…
There’s not much there.
Even the writing is going really slowly which sucks. It’s been especially difficult to do anything writing wise because I’m never actually sitting down long enough to get anything substantial done.
I know, I know.
“Adrienne! You should just get sit down and write it! It’s not that hard, you sit down and you do it! You don’t wait for the inspiration to come to you just do it!”
It’s that easy and it’s that hard.
“Oh, you must just have writer’s block! Just take a look around you! All the inspiration’s there!”
Yes, yes it is. And no it isn’t. I see the things I wanna write all the time. There’s the ghosts who hang out in the cemetary whenever I go to visit.
There’s the girl working the Home Hardware on 4th where she doesn’t get much people but when she does, they’re either the regulars or ‘just looking.’ She houses fairies in the back room. No one else sees them.
Except her, and maybe the odd child who looks in and waves to say hello.
Their parents never know who she’s waving too.
You see, wordpress? (Or the voices in my head. I think you double as both here.)
Plenty of ideas, I’m just…exhausted.
It’s exhausting. Writing is exhausting. Thinking about writing is exhausting. Not that I don’t like doing it, I love writing.
It’s just so mentally exhausting that whenever I even think about lifting up a pen and a peace of paper, I shy away.
“Psh. It’s not that bad.”
No, voices in my head, it’s not that bad. But I’m not crazy and you know it.
I will figure this out wordpress! I know it!
Thanks for reading.