Writing, writing, writing,
Scrap.
Nothing is working.
This feels like a trap.
I can’t work under these conditions.
I’m feeling claustrophobic.
I need to leave.
If only I could go somewhere,
Get outside and breathe.
I can’t finish what I started.
Endless hours of retracing my thoughts.
Maybe starting over is what I need?
A brand new story.
A break would be great, indeed!
Eventually I’ll go back; hopefully.
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