and it keeps coming til the day it stops

it’s almost 3 in the morning and my brain won’t stop spinning. over the last four days ideas and lines and titles have flashed through my mind and seconds later the process is bollocksed because the moment you start to think this is what i’m going to do then it’s tainted and you don’t do it. you see a flash of something you could capture, and nine times out of ten the infant thought comes packaged with a good reason you should let it die. i cannot tell you how many time between then and now i felt like writing, much as i am now, and it could have come out any number of ways. only difference is i did it this time, but minutes ago i was clenching my eyes, thinking just sleep, just sleep, just sleep.
when i had the freakout it spoke mostly to paring down, to starting again, call it what you like. to regenerate. the language of doctor who has seeped into my being to the point that i have written outlines of what i don’t like about my current incarnation, who i want to be in future versions, and so on. that show. they make it look so simple, to go up in a ball of light and fire and there you are. the same, but not. you’re still you, yeah, any of your mates would say so; but oh, to have it be that easy. a quick regeneration and you’re free to discover yourself all over again, none of the work and the daily pour through the habits you’ve spent a lifetime building because you didn’t know better, or because it was the best you could do at the time. a crash is necessary, but it’s not enough. you still walk away yourself.


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