I’m trying real hard, but I just don’t have the discipline to sit down and find a quiet place to do much writing. It’s driving me bats. I’ve written a few things for Prairie Dog (hi guys! Love you! *waving like a freak*), just little things that are fun and quick. I’ve done a few posts on here, but I keep feeling like I’m cheating myself by not working on a poetry manuscript (I have nearly enough poems to submit a whole manuscript) or getting out my book of things what I write ideas in.
I just…I feel all tapped out. Exhausted. It’s like I’ve been fighting for so long that there’s nothing left. Except it’s not my writing I’m fighting. It’s something else, something I’m not going to talk about here.
Maybe I’ve forgotten how to make a space for myself. Maybe I’ve forgotten how to write. Maybe I’ve forgotten how to tell stories. Maybe I’ve lost touch with my poetic voice.
Maybe I’m just a big whiner.