lumeriel

Bad days. My leg is hurting more than I expected and my ankle is giving me real problems lately. Work… well, work’s being a hell. Sometimes I just wanna cry: I didn’t sign for this!!! And then, I remember that I did.

Writing, on the other hand, isn’t being funny. Too many WIPs –I know –and I feel so guilty for not working on them. Worst thing is that new ideas don’t stop popping like flowers in spring. And there’s this novel in which I’ve been working for two years now and I only have the worldbuilding, and the main plot –and some ridiculous and useless details –but I just keep asking myself if it worth to write it at all. I mean, it isn’t as if it were to be published someday.

Bad vibes these days.

***There’s a monster under my bed. At nights, when lights go out and wind howls outside, and ghosts dance under the stars, it creeps behind me, hugs me with its bonny and cold arms and in a raspy voice, asks me: ‘tell me a children’s tale.’***