“Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. They make you feel so alive that you’d follow them straight into hell, just to keep getting your fix.”—Karen Marie Moning (via exhaledemons)
My muses are being particularly cruel. I’ve been in a distracted state of pre-writing for days now, with no relief. Like when a lover keeps you dancing on the edge. It’s exciting, tantalizing, but can cross so easily into torment. At some point you need to take control, push them down and turn the tables.
I’m trying to force the metaphor, to tempt myself to scribble some nice, relaxing smut… but at this point it’s more akin to needing to take a giant crap. I’m straining, here. It’s been months.