Can I Do Two Hundred More?
Got 20 more pages cranked out, and we're up to a good 70-71 of the first draft. Although it seems fast, it's not about quantity. But my brain feels like a machine.
It's hard to believe this was all just one focused part of my life; it should have been an entire life.
People are complicated. I'm living off beer, nostalgic fumes and the uneasiness of government funded, chemically induced pain. It keeps my soul on fire, at least long enough to keep me targeted in the right direction. Or is it the right direction? I've never known the answer to that. Should I be telling these things to the world? Yes. And fuck you, Elmo Zumwalt.
I can do two hundred more.
It's hard to believe this was all just one focused part of my life; it should have been an entire life.
People are complicated. I'm living off beer, nostalgic fumes and the uneasiness of government funded, chemically induced pain. It keeps my soul on fire, at least long enough to keep me targeted in the right direction. Or is it the right direction? I've never known the answer to that. Should I be telling these things to the world? Yes. And fuck you, Elmo Zumwalt.
I can do two hundred more.
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