well here we are again, still trying to spin my wheels, but not really going anywhere. I feel like a lot of what I've done was a wasted effort in the end. I miss October, the month was the most productive I'd been in a while, never thought doing some stupid ritual from an old book would light such a fire under my ass, but it worked somehow.

I haven't been able to get it back, the motivation, maybe I became too self aware of the placebo and it stopped working. Still, I think it was because i was expecting something happen, like the hard work I put in and fucking up my back and drawing hand in the process would somehow pay off, but it didn't.

I don't know what this feeling is, but ever since last year its been extending to my other work. As of now I've indefinitely benched my Anderswo book series until further notice. Too many negative things have impacted it to the point where I can't even work on it without being reminded of bad memories. Every time I try to write I keep thinking back to all of the friends I lost, people I cared about that I'll never see or hear from again. It just... hurts.

I also feel guilty because I'm basically going back on old habits that took me a few years to kick, I've also started drinking again so, we're passed the threshold at this point. I just want to take everything thats hurt me and turn it into something. I want to write, so I'm gonna just pour everything I'm feeling into a story, throw it out into the ether and forget about it.