writing

I hate writing.

Ha. The irony.

But it’s true.

I don’t like it. Rather, it’s too much work. Rather, it’s a lot of effort. Rather, where is the time?

It scares me.

I’ve written one play of my own. Wrote another quick one with a few people. Another screen play with a dear friend. Some webisodes. Started a few other plays. A project. All need work.

The one play has been has been performed three times now. But. I still haven’t changed anything since the first iteration. It needs work. It’s not done. I get the same feedback everytime. I know they’re right. I have the same feedback. But I can’t bring myself to go back to it.

I hate writing.

I took a writing workshop this weekend. Meditated, wrote for what felt like 10 minutes. Turns out it was 40 minutes. I kept writing an ending but the time kept going so I kept writing. Octavio chose me to share first. Octavio said it was “superb” and that I should continue the craft. That I could write plays, that I could write novels.

I hate writing. Rather, I don’t like it. Rather, it’s a lot of effort. Rather, where is the time?

It scares me.