Oct
19th
Fri
19th
Her old habits of seclusion and screening out distraction remained, but there was nothing to be secluded for. Once in a while she prodded herself to write, but the old excitement of creation did not return, or if it did, it fizzled by morning after her nightly medication. It was a dry fuck, every word painful and laborious. But like sex itself, even masturbation, it was the initiative that was most lacking.
—
“Emotional Paralysis”, Airless Spaces, Shulamith Firestone
The best description of this feeling I’ve ever read.
(via emilygould)
