writing is good for you. like vitamins, but less swallowing.
i don't think much brings me more pleasure than being this deep in the plot of a story. it's a book i wrote a couple years ago, but i'm going back through it, trying to add 10,000 words. well, maybe 15,000. [no, i don't have the patience to translate that into pages for you.]
CCB made some comment the other day - that if he was as devoted to running as i am to writing, he could go right now and run 100 miles. that may be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. but i'm telling you - this kind of devotion isn't anywhere near easy. it's solitude, it's sacrifice. it's ignoring the phone and facebook and tv, and spending a hell of a lot of time listening to super sad music [thanks, bright eyes]. it's a lot of fucking time by yourself. it's a lot of no one giving a shit that you're putting so much effort into it.
but i can't even begin to explain how happy i am in spite of all that. the buzz my brain feels from showing a story, from forcing emotion, from making you care about something completely imaginary. i don't know, i just want to stay here forever...