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.