I’ll try again tomorrow.

Just handed in a 30 pages long thing that separated me from finally writing my master thesis. Inspiration for this specific thing never quite hit, and now I feel awfully drained. What are feelings? What is writing? I feel fucking empty. Feeling okay and not feeling a thing feels too similar for comfort. At least for me. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Published by Mistress Witch writes

About the historical horror of living. Drafting my witching novel. Chasing dark, forgotten and haunted tales.

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