I hoped to return to LJ today, a Lazarus, and stroll the halls once again...
But this fic is burning me from the inside out, a continuous flash of white heat, napalm on the water. It's forcing me to face my frailties, my inabilities, for writing is only as good as its instrument.
For the past three weeks, I've averaged 3 hours of sleep per night. I'm exhausted. But that can be a good thing because I've been here before, hit that wall and sailed through it. After a while I can't even surface long enough to cling to conceits, devices. The only thing that's left is imagery; I drown in it.
But my fear remains: am I strong enough to finish, to make it to the other side?
As you can see, I'm tired. I'll just be quiet now.