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Yesterday, for NaNoWriMo Day 1, I wrote, not my proposed 2,000 words, but a grand total of only 550 words, and they were crappy, meaningless words, except for the last 50, which were truly honest words.
Here are those final words:
"I don’t want to write. I don’t want to write anything anymore. The process is just too damned complex for me these days. My brain no longer works efficiently enough to write... I am no longer capable of doing so. I am too old. And I can now admit it."
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I feel suddenly that I am now free. I am free to do anything that occurs to me at any time. And that is what I will do.
. . . probably.
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This Is Who I Am
