Portrait of the Artist Mid-Revision

In a love / hate relationship with this story. It tugs at me. I shove it away and it crawls back in, sneaking through the cracks. I try to ignore it but it screams. I love it achingly and intensely but it overwhelms me. Can’t sleep because it talks to me constantly, but when it gets quiet, I panic.

Writing is glorious and torturous and shines lights into all your hidden places and scares the hell out of you and yet makes you feel so damn euphoric and I can’t stop.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s