There is something depressing about going from a word count of over 20,000 to a word count of under 100, but I can't quite put my finger on it. On the keyboard, I mean. It's so hard to write. I just feel so uninspired. I feel unprepared to be writing this thing, even though I've been doing so much research and planning this last month. I want this to be perfect--I refuse to settle for anything less.But, I'm writing it and that's all that really matters.
This is something I feel very strongly about. So strong are my emotions about it, in fact, that I have haphazardly drafted this singular post about it on the fly. I hope, for your sake, that you are seated as I deal with this incredibly important social issue and say controversial things--the likes of which give women the vapors. Shorts. I fucking hate shorts. I hate them because you can't look cool in them. Think about it. Have you ever seen an action hero save the world wearing shorts? No. Action heroes wear pants. Men wear pants. People who save the world wear pants. Pants, pants, pants. Nobody wears shorts excepts, like, stoners, lazy guys, and dudes. And bros. Those archetypes do not do adventurous things. Indiana Jones? Pants. Robocop? Pants. Flapjack? Pants. Bear Grylls? Pants. Australian stereotypes? Shorts. Australia really likes to try to censor their internet content. That doesn't sound so awesome and/or manly to me. To prove my conclusion that shorts a
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Besides, there will be drafts and drafts, and somewhere in that process you will eventually whittle it down to something truly wonderful. Stop stressing though, bro.