I've lost my mojo. My writing depresses me. It's flat and generic, and lacks that something that makes it special. I just feel like throwing it all in and never writing again. Who was I kidding anyway, thinking I could do this. It's all just delusions of grandeur.
We have guests arriving tonight - my dad's cousin, wife and their two kids are staying with us for the next two weekends. Months ago when this was first being organised, I offered up my room for the two kids as we only have the one guest room and I figured they wouldn't like to camp out in the living room so far from their parents (they're only little). I hugely regret this now though because all I want to do is lock myself in my room for the entire weekend. Instead I'm being moved into the garage. That's going to be a treat.
I'm not in a good place right now. It's not just the writing thing, it's...everything. I'm wound too tight and stretched too thin. I'm so stressed about uni work, it's like a weight pressing down in the middle of my chest. And I'm so tired. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones and weighs you down, the kind that sleep won't fix.
I almost thought I kicked this feeling yesterday, but it didn't last. A gig can only take you so far after all (which is unfair, why can't I carry that feeling with me all the time? Why am I incapable of holding onto my own happiness?)
But I suppose I shouldn't complain, I've had a good run this year and all things considered I've been worse. It's just hard to be objective when you're feeling like a shell of a human being. Just have to tap into the reserves to somehow manage to wade through at least one essay this weekend.
At least there are things to look forward to - high tea and picnics, the promise of sunshine and great company. Got to grab hold of those silver linings.
When I took the blame
We laid in ruins trying to quote your phrase
We're yelling "someone's got the answers"
But I rather think there's nothing to be found
Music: I can barely breathe - Manchester Orchestra
Mood: Been better
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