Writers Blok

Once I went to a writing event and had this conversation about the two types of writer with a student she said all organised writers are jealous of tortured writers and I said I am a tortured writer which I knew meant I was a bullshit person but hey we all monkeys and then I drank too much wine and there were a lot of old important people there and it got confusing.

I been writers blocked up like a post guinness bog lately and it was getting me down and loathsome so I wrote some heartfelt poetry to the universe pleading to get a god damn break for a change and by the end I had wrote something and I remembered how to write again so now I am writing a novel coming soooon.

 

Prayer of the Hot Mess

 

Dear Universe

Is it ok

If just for today

I am allowed to be a mess

 

Can I not clean my house

And let other people see

The clothes on the floor in every room

Don’t mean I’m depressed

 

Can I just smoke cigarettes

Weed, drink booze just please

I know I’m trying to quit

But I can’t write this stressed

 

Can no one ask me questions

I don’t remember these:

Where I’m going, what I’m doing

Can I just fail this test

 

Cos my muse is beaten up

Bloodied, broken, been abused

 

And I don’t know how I got here

This is not the place I choosed

 

I just want to write something

Like nobody showed me how

 

And I need another sentence

So can I be a mess just now

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