Problems lately.

An excuse. A pathetic one nonetheless. Pain and shame are probably the two greatest motivating factors in my life, and I have had to deal with this up close and personally many times. I’ve been struggling with my writing for some time now. More than writer’s block, it is a will to fail that is pushing me down. I talk a LOT of shit on publishing companies, editors, agents, printers, everyone in the literary industry. But my biggest obstacle is, and always will be, myself.

I don’t want to complete my book.

I want to sit and look at it, disgusted at my own inability to complete and move forward. I get engrossed in side projects, blame my life outside of my book, fuckin’ name it. I want to rest on soiled laurels reeking of the past and my incredible ignorance. No matter who may fuck around with you in your life, you’ll always be standing in your own way. Always. You will find things out about yourself, you will change, you will die, you will be born, you will wish for death, pray for slaughter, everything. Meat is weak, will is strength.

—Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength Meat is weak, will is strength—

SAY IT. Repeat it in your head over and over, like a terrible mantra, a hideous, bloody mantra that drives itself deeper into your fucking brain until all that you are is infected and taken over by your mind. You body cannot exist without your mind, your soul, your will. Your soul can. Meat is weak.

I’ve been focusing too much on the fuckin’ meat. We’re all just shuffling bags of greasy beef, trying to live our meager lives. Meager, untilWE change them. I’ve had several rude awakenings in the last few weeks, and they’re all burning on my mind like a clothes iron, just waitin’ to come out the other side. I am ashamed of my own weakness and vulnerability. This brings anger, and finally, pain. I am furious with myself right now. I hate what I have started to let myself become, and now I’m on the road to change. My will is my power, and I am not allowing the meat to take over and make me weak.

Beat your body. Beat it up. Make it beg for you to stop, and then tell your mind to keep on going. You rlungs will burn, your muscles will cramp, your bones will crack, your eyes will rupture, your brain will liquefy, your blood with turn into thick ash and YOUR WILL IS ALL YOU WILL EVER HAVE. I WILL NOT LET MY MEAT PREVENT ME FROM WRITING MY BOOK. PUBLISHING. SELLING.

FEED. YOUR. WILL.

Your meat is already dead.