Bah.

It's all shit! I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip the manuscript up, but I can't. One, because it's all digital and written on word processing software. Second, there's no manuscript. Just pieces of shitty writing I compiled in one file. What the hell am I even writing about, and for whom?

I thought I'd do it just fine. What went wrong? I contemplated. I planned it all. I even wrote the outline for them all. 

It's all wrong. I should've strike while the iron was hot. The ideas were written down, but the intensity of the excitement and emotion that shrouds the entire atmosphere of the writing has died down. It's easy to remember what you wanted to write about, but it's hard to replicate the hatred, lust, sadness, or happiness that should have become the foundation of it all.

That's why Ray Bradbury told us not to think when writing. In quickness, there is truth.

Don't "jot down the ideas", unless you are really busy when the inspiration hits.

But I was just writing the outlines so I don't end up rambling! I opposed.

Yea. But just because you have a fridge, doesn't mean you can buy the veggies today and leave them out to be cooked on an indefinite future date. I did that mistake a lot, and guess what? I ended up never cooking again these days.

You and your analogies of writing... You say writing is like swimming, writing is like exploring a jungle, writing is like morning poop, and this? 

Postponing writing is like rotting your groceries in a fridge, I know it sounds stupid when you put it that way. Writing is just very multifaceted and personal to me, I see it in all my everythings.

So... What do we do now?

I guess we just write every "now", not "later"?