The Suck

Not doing what I want to do, well, that sucks. And acting like I will ever be able to do it without somehow falling in love and getting knocked up and having my aspiring literary career crumble for the sake of a fucking zygote and a secure 401K? That is repulsive, and perhaps more scary than any commitment I pretend to shy away from.

I won’t lower my standards for men, but I’ve lowered them for myself.

The novel I got nearly 100 pages into died. Did you know that? It was like aborting a baby without my period. Or, one might argue, with a bunch of them.

Advertisements

2 responses to “The Suck

  1. Pingback: Half-Truths « Subway Philosophy

  2. 100 pages is a lot further than I’ve gotten on my novel. My friend Bill’s book took him five years.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s