Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Some Nights are Better Than Others

Tonight's writing isn't going so well, and the more frustrated I become, the sleepier I get. Eyes blur and words separate into letters that squirm like ants on the page. I type the same word three times without looking, dreaming of something else entirely.

If I could capture what I'm dreaming about when I sleep-write, I'd probably give voice to the shade of Shakespeare, channel Chekov, but as it is, I shut the computer in disgust before my eyes close on their own.

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