I'm emptied out, used up, full to the teeth with other people's words. Yesterday was the crashing finale of Litquake, where I helped unleash an army of volunteers on the streets for the crazed high of the Crawl.
No words of my own, though. My own words slink away like criminals. I'm shattered, shaken and spitwadded, and no words, no words.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Wow, sounds like quite the event. No wonder you have no words--you need sleep, Babe! Go to bed right now! Writing will come back when your brain and body are recovered.
It was, it was! Recovery will take time, but I'm happily exhausted...
Shows what I get for not checking in like I should.
Glad you survived (boy am I!).
Post a Comment