I feel like I'm on a downswing again. I don't know if that's fatalistic or not -- I'm just feeling as if what I write by myself isn't original, or funny, or touching, or well, well-written. And it's making me generally depressed, which makes me not want to write for fear I'll get more depressed, yet I want to write because I want to read more of the story, if that makes any sense.
I find myself using the same cliches. Hair color. Eye color. Familiar verbs. Sentence fragments. Bloody and bugger as a shortcut to actually writing Spike.
I think maybe I just had a bad day. I don't know. I know (could list, but won't) the things that *made* it a bad day, but I don't know if those things are depressing me, or if I'm only letting them get to me because I'm depressed.
I want ice cream. Except I don't, not really, because ice cream isn't one of my comfort foods. I want spaghetti made with Campbell's tomato soup as its main sauce, and lots of parmesan cheese, and I want to not feel like crap about myself.
Barring that, I want to go to bed and have a nice dream. That I actually remember.