Yes I'm untalented stupid and boring, but girl, have you seem my grit? WINK it's very uhhh gritty

And unmotivated, let us not forget that, because if I were a human being with even a slight hint of motivation, I'd get my writing done on time, actually spend 15-30 minutes per post in this blog instead of the 2-5 minutes I do currently and write every godfuckingdamn day religiously like the writer I aspire to become instead of some cheap hobo copy second-rate wannabe ariviste who knows writing is a good thing but doesn't understand what's to be written and what the readership is interested in. It's terrible. And then I don't have to mention the untalented and boring because had I got the slightest drop of talent running in my blood I'd be deluded enough think I'm the fucking king of the universe and send this to like newspapers and shit. Or the new yorker, you ever heard of it? Well yeah no because I haven't published there yet..

But. I persist.

Every week brings a bigger disappointment than the previous, but does that discourage me? Not in the slightest. My standards go lower by the month, day and hour, do I ever sit for a moment to consider this is a practice in vanity, pointless, not even good enough as writing practice at any other time this would be unworthy of the trash bin even, and what the hell am I doing? Not at all. Instead, I delude myself a little bit, and tell myself. Things will turn for the better, they always have and will always will. I shall publish a book if nothing else in the foreseeable future and people shall buy it!

So yeah, I don't have any of the other characteristics to make a good writer or a good anything but grit I got. Just the undying conviction that if I keep at it I will succeed despite ample evidence to the contrary, that it's just a matter of enough time and putting down enough words, which does against my understanding of the world and abilities. No. Because it's not a 100-meter sprint, as I tell people, it's a marathon, and to complete the marathon, you gotta keep running. Running and running and running. On and on, always and forever, until you're near the finishing line, which is the hardest to keep up because you just want to give up then, you know you're so close, as good as new, what's the point in holding anyway. But you don't hold. You let go and just keep running.

That's how you win the participation medal.

That's how you get a book published.