thursday, 4.41 pm

I know it’s weird to be writing a blog post about how I can’t seem to write anything, but here we are anyway. I need to open up some windows, it seems, and I’m on deadline, so something has to happen soon.
I’ll be out of the city for a little while soon. It’s always strange to leave New York, I almost never actually want to, but this time I think I need to, because things are getting hairy in my brain again and I might not be able to fix it if I’m here, wandering the streets, as I am wont to do. It’s a detox, really, a peculiar trade-off.

The good news is that there may be a fiction breakthrough of sorts, and if that’s true and real, then I need to court it, or woo it, or both. The degree to which my thoughts are refusing to coagulate around anything that isn’t imaginary is kind of terrifying, but in a beautiful way, in a way that I have missed. I hope I’m not speaking too soon.

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