I don't want to say I feel "depressed" because that's a huge word, right? It seems so definite and diagnostic. I don't even know if depressed is the right word anyway. It's not like I can't get out of bed. It's not like I don't want to do stuff.
I guess I feel angry, like it should be easier for me to get a job. It should be easier for me to think up awesome ideas and write them and wow I've had so much practice in this area you'd think it would just be second nature by now.
It's not. The blue crystals are pointed towards my writing hands. The deep focus potions are lit by tea candles day after day in my little witchcraft area. The prayers are done on the knees, the meditations are done in the morning. I have meetings, shrink, friends, boyfriend, agents, managers, people who don't know me asking to be my friend on facebook...
I don't know what to write about anymore is how I feel. I don't even know what my ideas are and when they come, I can't tell if they're good. I can't even tell if I believe in the concept "ideas" and I can't tell if I just hated myself a little bit for writing the "concept of ideas" (what does that even mean?).
If I'm Disneyland, and everything I have to offer is a souvenir, well then, I'm fucked. Going out of business. A ghost town carnival where the rides don't work anymore and the Sharks and the Jets are using me for their turf war.
It's not even about giving up anymore because I can't even remember what I'd be giving up exactly. There was a time where I felt like I knew exactly what the next right thing to do was.
That is not this time. I have no fucking clue.