I’m writing UT in these last few days.

Limited free time notwithstanding.

It could be the last chapter or the one before that and Linds just got in the way of a much needed closure taking my ideas and wrenching them like rags.

He’s enraged thanks to Michelle and the mindless blabbering of a moment.

It’s spectacular and crazed because I was so near the finish line and now I need to reinvent it…

I said it once and I’ll say it again: writing is like bleeding out. You’re never finished and it always hurts and you feel proud of your pixelated paper in strange ways.

Then there are the times you’re just tiredly shoving brown matter and you know it’s getting you and your story nowhere…