Somewhere through the mists of apathy I’ve to find the thread that is caught on the breeze, dangling, (I was going to say enticingly but…) take a firm grip and pull it down from its flight amongst the clouds to where I can read the last part of the oeuvre. Hopefully then I’ll find my missing pathy? (Apathy beaten = pathy doesn’t it?)
Anyway, I’ve to attempt a few paragraphs if nothing else. Any minute I’m going to finish proofing the last novel so it’s best I get on with this one eh? The range of moods I go through during this process, from mild positivity to ‘why can’t I summon the will to jump in front of that train and put myself out of this misery?’ is draining but the worst has to be apathy and lack of belief, surely the most limiting?
The ‘what is the point’ is the worst. With every rejection, every glance at my sales (lack of, therefore lack of respect, lack of love, lack of worth so why don’t you just F off and do IT you tool?) the ‘what is the point’ gains more weight until it feels, like now, as if the truth is, there is none.
Enn eee wayy, I’m going to sweep aside apathy and see if I can move the story along a little. What IS the point? I shed a whole pound off my fat ass without even trying so maybe if I put enough words down I can lose a few more. Worth a try isn’t it?