Writer in exile, day 1

Sometimes I hate having money because too many unproductive options began taunting my demons. It’s better when I’m broke because I sorta forced to remain productive, make my life make some sense. I sometimes like to think of myself as weak and then I get nervous and start calling friends hoping they would be some sorta of distraction so I wouldn’t do what I already know that I’m going to do and that is buy drugs, get drunk and have sex all day. Why do I feel so weak? I don’t have to do those things. I can keep working on my novel. Actually this post has made me feel better. I went into exile because I wanted to focus on my bigger picture. I need to learn sacrifice and restriction. It doesn’t always have to be so extreme.

I think when I wake up in the morning I have to remind myself that I’m not starving. I often forget so when I get any joy I usually overdose. I need to think of the bigger picture. I don’t have to call my friends. I don’t have to be a baby. I’m a thirty year old man who needs to get a job. I am not going to spend my entire day getting drunk, high and looking for sex. That’s so stupid.