feeling down

I'm collaging. Using what I wrote last summer. Tedious work that can be quick if it weren't so tedious.
There are times when I feel like I should just stop writing. Stop it all.
And I often wonder if all the "great stuff" I'm writing is actually great or just a whole lot of b.s.
When I feel like this the only reasons why I continue are: sheer stubborness, Lianne, who's given me so much of her time, and Ben, who at times believes in me more than I do.

Time for some stubborness to quick in.