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I wish I was afforded the time to write. And I mean a consistent time. Not just whatever
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I was in that trap for a while. Then I declared, fuck everything else. I need to take care of my dreams and desires. It mostly works.
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Yeah. And then I have gotten my head bitten off about being selfish. Even though I almost died because of stress and pressure to do everything for everyone all the time.
And apparently it’s still my fault. Because I’m not pulling in the confirmed <$60k salary now that I'm on call casual. So… Yeah. Fuck it. I dunno. Fucking hopeless
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That sucks. I feel it. Took me years to get to the point that I can write every day. Still feel guilty when I’m asked to do something and explain, “Sorry, that’s my writing time. Regrets.”
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