Death By Fiction

I AM SCREWED. I have a story due on Thursday at 5:00 (technically before that, technically TOMORROW, because I need to e-mail it to all my classmates so they can read it before the class. But let's not get too dramatic.) Basically I have become numb to words. I'm typing this with my eyes half-closed, only checking every once in a while to make sure i'm typing on the right keys and not going off track--I can't stand the sight of words right now. I see a simile and balk; Metaphors make me want to throw up; try any cutesy abstractiv-osity and I'll rip out my eyes. Literally. They're half-closed. NOT half-opened.

The reason is I pretty much had a fiction overdose yesterday. In an effort to catch up on moutains of books/readings, I read a lot. A lot a lot. When I was little, I thought we had word "quotas" each day (which could be transferred over into the next, but only on certain special discounts) meaning certain words were only allowed to be used a certain amount of times. I think this was actually an argument presented to me as a first grader to be prevented from using the word "um" too many times. But anyway, if word quotas do exist, i'm severely overdrawn. NO PUN INTENDED.

Do not be confused: I love fiction. I love stories and words and I want it to be my profession. But too much is too much, I don't know if it was from WHAT I was reading or HOW MUCH i was reading, but I definitely felt the effects today: I was drawn more towards images than words, it took me five minutes to realize the series of dripping lines in front of me during lunch was actually the newspaper and i can't write anything without thinking it's SHIT.

Maybe it's acceptable shit. Perhaps even good shit. That's what I keep telling myself, keep forcing myself to write line after line...just one more paragraph, you can do it...finish it.....JUST FINISH IT. It's painful. This sucks. I have a story, I know what to write....but it's shit. Acceptable, good.....no, just shit.

Just get it...just get it...just get it....down...down...just write it d...own......down down down....just get it down.......just get it...just get it....

That's what's going on in my mind right now. I would make a simile and compare it to a skipping CD, but you know what, that would suck. So no. Just, no. I'm going to the bathroom. NO PUN INTENDED.