mad

I am too angry to write.

I don’t have a reason, and this is far from a cry for help. I would blame anxiety or depression, but I’m not sad.

I crave to scream at something, I think? Or maybe, just maybe, I feel like I don’t deserve something? I have no clue. I don’t know why I am this way right now. It might be reading the headlines from our neigbours to the south, or it might be this feeling of being trapped in a world of hate and malice.

Either way, long story short, my birthday is Thursday. I will do the usual hiatus from the twelfth to January, with a Christmas update in between. I am 10,000 words deep into my latest book. I love what I have written so far, but I have been to… messed up?… to write anything for about a week now. I voiced a fear of hating what I have written to a friend of mine, then read it over again and felt better.

I hope I can do a more interesting post before Thursday.

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