Next week's my birthday. It will also be The Mare in the Warp's anniversary. Eight years. Eight crepe-flipping years since I started working on a personal project to prove to myself that I could write a long story and stick to it and finish it.
I don't think I have the moral strength to rewrite it. If you're looking for me I'll be waterbending with my eyes, thinking about how I manage to be so destructive toward my own work.