I've been writing nonstop for months. I thought I could push past it, I did, but writers can't simply not hit walls.

And goddamn, have I hit a wall.

Every time I read it, it sounds worse. Every time I want to type something new, I use the most elementary words I can find.

I can't think of anymore possible ways to express that "he looked up," or "he felt stressed," or "he's scared."

I'm scared. I didn't know writing could make you scared. I knew writing could be a thing that felt tedious and old, but now I feel scared. Now I'm afraid I'm never going to recapture what I once did in words.

I didn't want to hit a wall. And it's not the type to relent. I don't know what to do. Everything sounds wrong.

Some people think I'm not human when I write - I've heard that, and I scoff, because this person has no idea how long it took to arrange those words into an order that looked nice. Maybe I make it look easy. It's not easy.

It's really fucking hard. Sometimes I hate writing and I just pray to God the words don't come out looking utterly wrong. If they don't? Post it. If they do? Post it.

I wonder how much I would hate myself I wrote it through without giving a shit. That's just not me.

I'm fucking stressing, guys. The transitions don't work. The prose is awful. The exposition sounds like it's a piece of shit filling up spaces of the page. If I write one more fucking sentence I don't like, I'm going to start crying. Maybe I'm crying right now. I won't even notice, I'm too busy stressing out about this. I'm forcing myself to write, and it sounds bad.

But I can't stop. And I won't. I get that I'm only on chapter fifteen and it's been exactly a year since I first posted this, so yeah, I'm not going to stop. (To be completely fair to me, though, I have written 55,000 okay-ish sounding words, so there.)

I don't know. You just have to keep going, I guess, even if it makes you want to cry.

Off to write Colorblind,

Ana