Do I want to continue writing here? I do and I don't. Do I want to write at all? Yes, with a flaming passion. But....
Lately my streak of perfectionism has gotten the better of me, and I have ceased writing for a short time (I hope it's short, anyway). I want to write it perfectly when I do write it, and I don't feel I can do that at the moment. I need to write my novel and I need to write it fast, is what I keep telling myself. And it does not happen. I cannot keep pushing myself to force things. I have to take a breath, and stop.
I don't want to write about my current dreams just yet. It doesn't feel right. My head is clouded and messy and my brain is lagging and tired and birds are constantly chirping and I need more sleep than I am getting. I have a list of excuses, it goes on for miles. I have a list of things to do that I haven't done yet, but the preparation is just as important as the action, isn't it? In some cases. I have a list of wonderful and terrible things I would love to write about. Colourful, fun, bright things. It's just, I can't.
I can. But I won't, and I don't.
All the writing I have really been doing lately is writing about writing.