Right now it's raining in Manchester, and I'm trapped indoors (scared of the water, naturally) with little else to do other than sit on my computer and write. I've so far written about two pages of my "Cigarettes and Paranoia" script, and already the doubt is starting to creep in. Doubt over whether it's good enough. Doubt if I'm good enough. Really, it's not proactive.
I really should just sit down and write the god damn thing, no matter how bad it turns out to be. Then at least I'll have my ideas written down on paper, and I'll be able to edit them down and refine them in whatever manner I see best. As somebody rather important ans self-pompous once said "nothing good is ever written; it's always re-written".
So I'll just get typing, and wherever the journey takes me is good enough for me. As long as I try my hardest, and put a zillion percent into my work, how can I ever complain? Your work is only as good as the effort you put into it, I suppose (I'll shut up with all this philsophical crap now, shall I?). Writing it is!
Oh, before I forget, the magazine with my article inside still hasn't been printed and published. I'm told the earliest it will be is the end of this week - which is a very long time now! It should be cool just being able to sit down and read what I've written. Damn the extra long wait. What have I ever done to deserve this? (You don't wanna know...!)
Anyways, I've got a busy day ahead of me. Lots of work to do, and important stuff like that. Lets just hope I don't have to venture outside, because the rain still hasn't cleared away. I really should have brought an umbrella. Damn.