I was an angry bird today. Snapping the fingers off many. They bit me. I bit back. I'm usually not one to bite in return. I usually don't address it.
I think it's the hunger. The hunger for what I once knew. What I've been away from. I hear it calling now and then. Like a once beloved friend calling my name. I miss their company.
My writing is...it's like a puzzle right now. All the pieces are there, but the main picture is getting fuzzy. I need to reconsider Gabe's motivation.
It's distressing. Money, it comes and goes. The boys, they come but I want them to go. The men...think I'm jailbait. The ones that desire jailbait, they lose interest fast after swapping words with me. I know how to say "no" and mean it. I may act dim, for fun, cause being serious can feel stuffy, but it's an act.
But not having time to write, and working in a space that kills any creative buzz - it's a slow death. It sucks that there's no one to talk to about the craft. Like, someone that will help you tear a part what's not working. Someone who wants to.
I miss my friends that have gone away. When a mess, a baby, a plane ride or marriage get in the way - friends split. More time to self investigate your inner mess and deny obvious flaws. Medicate with sugar and coffee. Do a good deed to cancel all the wrong. Am I alone here?
Thank God today's almost over.
