Haunted by a Pathological Ghost Writer.
OMG I’ve started saying OMG. WTF. This is driving me nuts. I don’t mean driving my nuts. Driving my nuts would be nuts. The wheel could sit on my knees but the pain. The pain. I’m not driving my nuts. I mean to say I’m driving myself nuts and I need to talk it out.I’m a writer which means I spend time alone but over the years my skill for procrastination has become what I can only describe as pathological. I am becoming the ghost of a ghost writer haunted by an idea of what he originally was. Work that one out. Lemn Sissay is a pseudonym and the real author has long since left the building. Grrr.Not writing is like playing pass the parcel in a party group of one! The music drones continuously – it’s “Pretty vacant” by the sex pistols – and there’s just me sat on a chair holding a box and I’ve long since stopped thinking the damned music will stop. Pretty vacant indeed. If I had a pseudonym I could blame him (or her) for setting me up but I haven’t even got one of those. I’m going to Clapton Pond’s Palm 2 for a coffee. All advice appreciated.