Most days I’m just feeding my addiction.
I’m rather obsessive now. Consumed by it.
I’m back to three blogs again. Really? I tried this once before and failed. I simply can’t keep a steady pace on all three at once. Clearly, this glaring fact doesn’t matter. I’m back in the saddle.
I’m bouncing around between blogs, memoirs, and short stories, trying to score big on the writer’s pinball machine I insist on playing. Still not sure what scoring big means. Adding to my word count? Adding to how many pieces get published? Adding to my chances of writing something that isn’t pure rubbish and has value beyond what it does to me?
I’ll keep playing. I’m an addict. An addict for these words that keep lining up waiting for me to inject another into the game.
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