Morning In Mourning

This morning I woke up to a shrill beeping. The screeching was coming from my alarm clock. It beeped for what felt like hours, but was only a few seconds. I slammed my hand down on the screen of the clock...

I will not let my writing become this. I will now let you take paris.

I hate this. I feel like as a writer I have grown and developed over the last year. I felt like I was in a good place with who I am and where my writing was going. These "prompts" and this "class" have me receding into the mediocre writer that I was two years ago.

Ask me a question. I'll give you a straightforward, boring, vanilla answer and I will feel a piece of Paris die with it. I will feel pieces of Paris crumble as you "teach" me how to be a "good" writer.

I'm over it.

I won't let you take Paris, and I won't lose it.

I will not let one generic english course ruin what I have grown to love.

My morning was fine. Thanks for asking. Now leave me be and let me write my life away in Paris instead of this godforsaken town.

#kthanks