Nothing Like Inspiration

Nothing like a bit of inspiration to get my butt in gear. I don't want to go into the details of it here. I'm still 1) really, extremely pissed and 2) images of a gory and prolonged death of someone close to me are rolling through my brain. It's not fit reading for the www. T, if you want to hear more, call me at night. G, if you do, call me during the day, around noon tomorrow, Sunday, or Tuesday when that someone is not home and can't hear the words I will speak. *evil grin*

Anyway, this inspiration which is holding a very big gun to my spine, demands I write as much as I can, as fast as I can. It won't take no for an answer and wants cash money, lots of it, like yesterday. It has me begging and shamelessly prostituting myself all over the web for people to read my wonderful, brilliant, average articles. Needing my huge circle of friends to click on each page of every article I have thus far written. Ok, so all 2 of my friends to do it everyday.

This is when I have the dream I'm a successful writer and have a few hundred dollars of residual income flowing in from different sites. In this dream I get a couple hundred dollars per article too. I dream big by seeing my wildly inspirational book rocket to the #1 spot on the NY Times Bestseller list and remain there for months. This nets me thousands, no millions of dollars of successful book income.

Since it is only a dream, I remain poor and have to wonder how much longer we'll have a roof over our head. Things will get worse than that what with having no car, a certain someone with no license. That leads to how the holy hell will we move a house full of STUFF and where the hell would we put it? Ya know, back to the pesky, no home, no money issue.

I'm afraid I'm going to fail. I'm afraid I can't make the money I need by writing for ten billion sites which pays next to nothing for my brilliance. I'm just upset, more afraid than I've ever been in my life, and having many other similar thoughts beating at my mind every second. It keeps me awake. It ruins my concentration. It makes me question a lot of things. The not sleeping so well thing is causing my pain to be worse than normal, along with a healthy, well a more than is healthy dose, of frustration and anger thrown in. With the higher pain level, the non-existent concentration zooms off to another galaxy to laugh at me with wicked glee. My ability to form coherent thoughts makes me drool. Everything good in me has gone on an extended vacation with no return date in site.

I needed to get some of this out. I hope I have not dragged you down to as low as I feel right now. I think I also just needed to throw a pity party for myself before trying to churn out subjects which are not what I want to be writing about. What I want to write about is not as profitable as the things I don't want to write. I think it's not...although judgment is reserved until I see what the numbers behind the dollar sign say. *free hugs to everyone who made it to the end of my babbling and depressing verbiage*