I am writing this week only out of a feeling of obligation. I’m over writing and the effort to try to encourage others to read what I work so hard to create. I’ve come to the conclusion it isn’t worth it and I can’t please everybody. I’m tired and mentally drained and still no one is happy, especially not me.
Although I am one of the few that does pay the bills with the words I produce I have been corrupted by the fact I am only doing it for the money and the need to survive and I have been taken over by the dark side, the commercial need for words to encourage shopping rather than words to inspire. I’ve realised I’m damaged goods and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m too tired to put the effort into finding my way back to where I started and too time deprived to devote hours to it. I’m done for.
I will not complain and grip, it seems easier just to try and rest long enough to build the strength for next week’s onslaught of happy, happy sunshine – we are the best, words brought to you by the paying advertiser. Please forgive me for giving in to the mighty, if it can be called that these days, dollar which has brought me off and overruled my morals. I’m just trying to feed my kids and earn a living the best I can. If that isn’t good enough a reason for being a writing sell out well too bad, it’s the only one I’ve got and I’m too tired to argue.