I just trashed an hour's worth of writing. Nothing is lost. It was awful. But I find I have nothing with which to replace it. The high points yesterday were my meals--oatmeal with peanut butter and honey for breakfast, a Greek salad with tuna for lunch, and lentils, brown jasmine rice, and wilted spinach with a small chicken cutlet for dinner. But I didn't sleep much last night. Up and down, up and down. Knee pain and other things. I have a lot of "other things."
The thematic spine of the trashed writing was this: how do you feel when someone you dislike gets hurt?
It went downhill from there.
I'm about to delete this post, too. I've spent too much time trying to find something, but I am empty. Nothing. Just another "stain upon the silence."
I can't even come up with a song.