Wow. I continue being impressed by the effectiveness of simply forcing oneself to do some small quantity of some creativeish activity every day. I'm actually churning out little bits of text now and then that I feel kind of pleased with, even if they suck by a reasonable objective writerly standard of quality, which I imagine they very well might. I imagine ideally I should have started doing this years and years ago. At least it feels satisfying, even therapeutic, to just blast things onto paper, making otherwise unremarkable random passing observations and filtered sensations that happenened during the day, stuff that falls even under the radar of diary-keeping, a tiny bit more permanent by fixing in the structure of a story. That may just be my pack-rat nature speaking, though, I guess.