Take Two?

Well here we are again,
It's always such a pleasure,
Remember when you tried to kill me twice?

Okay, so Five Minutes a Day never actually tried to kill me, though sometimes it might have felt that way. Especially towards the end when I just started resenting the requirement rather than enjoy the experience. It's funny how what started as a really inspirational project with some real highlights (like Raiders and Modern Necromancy) turned into such a drag and a burden. It made me really doubt how much I could actually sustain being a writer.

But I'm back to looking at it again, courtesy of a new, extended bout with depression and a new therapist recommending it. Writing is important to me. At least I've always made that claim. What is it that makes it important, though? Do I just want to be famous? Do I just want to be universally admired for my creativity? Or is there something else I can tap into that might keep me going even if those goals are far from ever being met?

I find myself wondering if I've written similar words to this before, possibly on this very site. I do tend to get repetitive in my ponderings. It's no wonder I don't make any progress, since I just keep going in circles.

Anyway. I guess this is an official announcement that I'm giving this another go. Wish me luck!