So, I guess my head feels better or something, I mean, it doesn’t really, not really at all, but sitting here was doing other things that are worse than pain in my head, so I decided to write. I added a chapter to The Marquess and have done some thinking on the multi-verse theory that is all the things I am writing with some delightful results thus far.

So I was sitting in bed last night, as I tend to do when I can not sleep and I was trying to think of things to write. It is never enough you know. I have a dozen different stories going and I know that three people, maybe four read them and I can not stop, not until it reaches the point where it hurts to write more in a mental anguish kind of way. it will happen, it always does. I will hit a wall and that will be that for a month, or even a day, and I will be at it again with a manic frenzy like the last few weeks have been.

I will save the Siobhan posts for Mama, but the rest will most likely get chucked in the who gives a fuck of history. I will mourn a moment or two and then I will move on because while I know I write something that at least a few people like, I am nothing close to an “author”. I have wanted to be that thing my entire life and for the life of me I simply can not find the combination of things that prevents it all from flushing down the brain toilet.

I would say I would get upset over losing it all, but I know I have fifty time a thousand more things just waiting to come out of my brain and be puked all over your computer screens like so much wasted time and effort. I do it again and again and one day I won;t, not because I will finally see some pinpoint of light in the distance, but because I will finally give up and quit trying to fix whatever is wrong with me with words that I write in the hopes the poison stays out this time.

My head hurts, I am going to go lie down or something. THAT, I know I am good at.

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