So, I'm going to talk about perfectionism, because I'm too pissed and hurt to talk about the "is the Bible true" conversation that I had with my mom earlier. Suffice to say it was civil but patronizing, and I am once again my parents' pet project.
I've been writing, slowly but surely getting back into the world of stories. It's a good feeling, even if I can only get a few sentences out a day. I'm still terrified of doing something wrong, of my writing being trite, unimpressive, or boring. Maybe it is, but I'm trying to cultivate an attitude that doesn't give a damn, because if I'm perpetually worrying about whether or not I'm writing a masterpiece, I won't write anything at all. Not to mention, any sort of debut is bound to suck. Might as well do it with style.
Shut up, perfectionism. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
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