I don’t want to go back to work, I want to write.
But when I sit down to write, I don’t want to write. I want to scroll Instagram repetitively.
Looking for what—I don’t know—something to spark my interest, to inspire me, to make me feel some-kinda-way. Which is rarely found in the slew of diet influencers and tarot-card-reading astrologers that clog my …
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