The Thought Fox Has Gone to Ground
I absolutely suck. I feel like my brain has been sucked out from the side of my head and now lies in a puddle of goo on the floor.
The last few weeks have been hectic as I've been working full-time and spending each weekend busy. Granted, I've managed to get Manchester, the Edinburgh festival, stuff in Glasgow, the Liverpool Mathew Street Carnival and a visit from squishypeanut into these weeks, but I've really been dying to take some tiem alone and to take up writing again.
My attempt at a novel has had another, oh... page added to it, which means if I continue at this rate then I'll have finished it by the time I'm fifty.
I also tried to get back into writing fanfiction. I had a really good idea and have written part of it, but now the ideas won't flow again.
Last night, it was around midnight and I decided that what I really needed was a nice relaxing bath to think. The setting couldn't have been much better; soft candlelight, lavender-scented water in a small Victorian-era bathroom. There is a beautiful fir tree that reaches up past our bathroom and it cast such interesting shadows in the silvery light of the full moon outside that I half expected Cathy to come scratching at my window.
And yet, despite all this, the only thing running through my head was:
My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard
And they're like, it's better than yours
Damn right it's better than yours
I could teach you but I have to charge.
I am so disappointed in my brain, I feel like smacking it. But I think that will only serve to exacerbate the problem.
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Commiserating as one whose sentences are presently crawling out with all the enthusiasm of an ... exactly!
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