Spoilers for the ending of Red Dead Redemption 2.

There’s a line near the end of Red Dead Redemption 2. Arthur Morgan—the protagonist—lies cliffside, dying. He’s been betrayed by the band of outlaws he’s dedicated his life to. Once a strong man, he's now weak, crawling toward a gun.

He reaches for the weapon…

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I used to think that if I couldn't write well, I could at least write a lot. 

Writing well. Having concise, condensed paragraphs of rich, dense descriptions should be celebrated. I used to think such things came naturally to some. Writer—author of 'The Golden Rule'—is such a person. His prose was immensely atmospheric. He wrote in a slow, meticulous way that valued intense immersion.

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Sorry for yesterday's—, or was it the day before?—blog. It's tough reading through the stuff you've spent a chuck of your life on... only to realize it's not very good. This would be okay if one believed that they would one day be good... but that scale tips way too much for me to ever hold a steady notion.

As the title suggests, I've been writing on different websites for the last while.

I would post them here, but I have too many people who dislike me.

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You ever just look back at your work and see its all garbage? I suppose that's what a lack of editing—and talent—will do to you.

You fucks

These fuckin' things fucking suck.

Like trying to write from inside a straight jacket.

Fewer words strengthen sentences.

But remove too many, and the reader will miss the

...that makes you want to do it again tomorrow.