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Super-charged Chai tea and insomnia do not fond bedfellows make. Why do I do this to myself? I'm on the verge of actually writing more original material, particularly for the new short story collection, but I keep getting caught up in weirdness that I don't need nor do I want.
Then I find I'm running into the arms of Darth Maul for solace, just like I did thirteen years ago. After all this time, I can't believe I'm thinking on writing another Maulfic. I won't do it, of course. The Massassi Sapphire was the end for me, and it always will be. I need to redirect this kinetic brain energy back to where it belongs and bite the proverbial bullet.
So I juice up on a mega-caffeine, originally reserved for the mad days and nights of The Joker Blogs, and I wait for the noodle to explode. I'm just afraid I'll still be awake three days from now and have the killer sitting on my shoulder, gnawing at the thoughts I can't put down to paper, and drinking my sanity like it is a bowl of warm blood.
It does not help that I keep taking on side-projects...of my own making. It's an avoidance maneuver in plain sight. Avoiding the obvious by obvious association. That makes no bloody sense, but I don't care.
I'd say I needed a hobby, but taking on more would only make it worse, and I'd probably choose something monumentally unhealthy for myself.
Then I find I'm running into the arms of Darth Maul for solace, just like I did thirteen years ago. After all this time, I can't believe I'm thinking on writing another Maulfic. I won't do it, of course. The Massassi Sapphire was the end for me, and it always will be. I need to redirect this kinetic brain energy back to where it belongs and bite the proverbial bullet.
So I juice up on a mega-caffeine, originally reserved for the mad days and nights of The Joker Blogs, and I wait for the noodle to explode. I'm just afraid I'll still be awake three days from now and have the killer sitting on my shoulder, gnawing at the thoughts I can't put down to paper, and drinking my sanity like it is a bowl of warm blood.
It does not help that I keep taking on side-projects...of my own making. It's an avoidance maneuver in plain sight. Avoiding the obvious by obvious association. That makes no bloody sense, but I don't care.
I'd say I needed a hobby, but taking on more would only make it worse, and I'd probably choose something monumentally unhealthy for myself.