pulling teeth to answer all these step work questions, don't i like being interviewed, doesn't it stroke the ego, even if it's a cock-eyed narcissism? not if it's a book interviewing me, really me writing some shit about myself, that i've pretty much already explored and done nothing about - but i can use the urge to deflect obligation to finally write something here instead of there
it's exhausting and i already lack energy - trying to get through it quickly but feeling deeply bogged down - can't bother coming up with any artful or elegant way to say any of this - hitting a wall - when i'm analyzed whether it's others doing it or myself, there seems to be nothing there, ultimately
hard to get into the spirit of it - can blast facts, be pretty honest, but it doesn't feel good, doesn't feel hopeful, can't even fucking articulate why or how... maybe should just be honest with my sponsor about the process, the paralysis of pointless perfectionism, too many questions, too many angles, don't know what is most important... been thru it already a bunch of times... don't feel much from it... maybe it's just this lame weekend of being tired as usual, but it's worse being tired with time off to be tired, time to do nothing
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Got no one to talk to, so I’m venting online. So, I really tried to hustle this week. Applied to five places. Even with the xanax it was har...
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Actual composition instead of an hour-long improv indulgence, 'sbeen a while. I wanted to call it The Dandy Whoremonger, but settled on ...
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Doing a writing exercise, I guess, is what I'm doing. Because I've hardly written anything for months. Since I got sober, yet again....
not paranoid when you should be just one of my normal keyboard improvisations, nothing special, except that it's recorded on a real grand.
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