This is getting boring now.
It's what 3, 4 days in a row where I've found myself this close to the deadline, this much in need of sleep, this desperate for words, just any words.
This isn't creativity, this is sabotage.
Live to work, work to live, there's a fine line between passion and pressure and I'm yet to walk it.
So with 3 minutes to go I've managed to write a tweet about not being able to write, but not actually written anything else in this big, blank box.
I'm wired and distracted and in no way unhappy, just somehow not quite right.
Think I need to stop. (Wait a minute, fill my cup put some liquor in it)
But seriously, I think I need to get out of my head for a bit and back to what it was that I was trying to figure out when I started this whole thing: my creativity and capacity for expression.
I can keep cobbling together these half-efforts which, curiously, feel like they take far more effort than any more substantial 'real' posts, but maybe that's it, maybe I'm stalling for time with these rambling excuses for posts and putting off the kind of writing that may actually stand up to scrutiny.
Or maybe I'm just knackered.
I'll sleep on it and let you know.
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