Yesterday was a good day.
Today, so far, is not.
I feel like a poser, like a loser, like maybe I'm wasting my time. What good is my life? What good is what I'm doing? What's the purpose?
I was even, literally, shit on today. And then semi-shit on again, figuratively, though, so that's much better.
Maybe it's hormones. Maybe my life doesn't have the right focus. Isn't in the right place.
In terms of my writing I wish I had some sort of more experienced, more professional guidance. Sort of a mentor, maybe. I'm figuring this all out on my own, well -- with the aid of people in the same boat as me, and I have no idea what I'm doing.
I'm a clunker. I'm a whiner. If you're sick of this, just ignore me.