I've about fucking had it. Really.
I don't want to be this person. I don't want to bitch constantly. I don't want to be the complainer, the downer.
I don't want to be disappointed all the damn time.
I am in a sinking circular logic ship and it's going down fast.
I'm such a whiner and I'm so sick of listening to myself.
How the hell do I figure out what to do here? I don't know. I just don't.
I keep telling myself that I should just put it away. I should put the damn book away and just stop pretending.
So, no one wants it. It's not the end of the world, right?
Move on, right?
I tried to work on a second book idea, even a third and fourth.
Fucking stuck...on all of them.
What's the damn problem?
NO self-confidence. None. I don't believe in what I'm writing. I don't believe in what I'm doing.
Have we had this conversation before? Yep.
Anything getting better? Nope.