Writing

At night, words are bubbling up from the depths of my conscience and they won’t let me sleep. I could write a whole novel in one breath, yet I feel paralyzed by the fear that I’ll lose “a good night’s sleep” and ruin my next day, so I keep struggling, one foot out of the duvet at a time, stretching my muscles, I’m so tense one would think I was carrying rocks on my back all day long, not interpreting.

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