Brilliant

I have been writing and deleting what I write for hours now and have achieved a very strong sense of being trapped in my own head. Every sentence I tap out is a prisoner calling for help that will never come. I will point out that I am writing this in my nice home and could go outside and be somewhere good if I wanted but it is very important that I invest the story of my failure to achieve an interesting thought with some kind of dramatic oomph.

Several hours ago I was quietly confident I would have a testament to my brilliance done and dusted by days end, but as the sun sinks towards  the horizon I know all is lost and I have wasted an entire day of my life typing shitty words and flushing them.

Woe is me! I have given my all and been rewarded with ashes. Even my inner child scorns me. This is fucked and I don't like it. Doesn't my creativity know I live in a capitalist system that requires that I provide a constant stream of online content? How can I build an audience if I am not reminding people of my vision by saying, "Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!" You know, like a real artist?

Anyway, now I have to go to a meeting and sort of quietly leak confidence into the atmosphere so people will want to work with me. Brilliant. 

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