WritingStruggles
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What happens when I don’t write for more than eight days. I feel disconnected from my story, like I’m looking at it from the outside, through fogged glass; seeing only mist where there used to be the purple skies of Stellaris. I hate it. And at the same time, I know I’m doing the best
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I am so tired I want to cry. I feel suffocated. Cornered. Like I’m underwater. I have a thousand and one items on my to-do list—some take thirty seconds, some take two hours—but the mental space they occupy is enormous. I have zero lines written to show for it, and at some point I start