(no subject)

[gothwalk]

Mutter. It was gonna be so easy. I was gonna sit up til 01:00, wait for the others to go to bed, and vroom, we'd be off, producing words at a rate of knots, keyboard smokin', RPG genius flowing out through the cracks between the floorboards and giving the neighbours nightmares about technotronic dinosaurs being beaten up by undead cacti. It worked when I was 19, see? And does it work now? Does it fuck. I've sat here since 01:00, pretty much, and I've written one paragraph of stuff I came up with earlier and hadn't written down, one-and-a-half lj entries, and a fairly complex series of vaguely kanji-looking doodles. The only things that're flowing easily are the lj entries, and the overflow pipe from the godsbedamned hot water tank in the attic. The only reason I'm even writing lj entries is that I'm clinging desperately to the principle that writing is writing, and it doesn't matter what it is, as long as words are appearing on the screen. I'm having serious thoughts about cleaning up the study now instead of tomorrow. Or looking again at the photographs from Stratford and Warwick. Or hey, isn't that a Dragon I haven't read yet?

I'm going to work on some number crunching for NPCs. It's not really writing, but at least it's therapeutic.