The pain of the Edit.

First it makes me tremble, and that is just the word. Arranging the letters in such a way that Pain is spelled.  E, the letter of my first name, my handle my given chosen title. Painless and some would think comforting. But it takes it’s place firmly in the front of Evil.

D, alone is a usefull letter, a letter that delivers; dreamy imaginings. Then danger and destruction come crashing to mind, not so innocent now.

Add an I,  into the mix, the all seeing, sneeky peeping; I.  Straight like a sharp stick to jab me with. Poking and prodding me forward; until i teeter on the edge of the precipise.

T, alone, T can soothe and comfort me,  placate  and cajole me. When buffered up to the end of the collection of letters. T stops being innocent, it makes the letters read as a word. The word that is there to terrify, and maybe even ruin me; or at least my first born. T, torturous terrifying and Tempestuous.

I have to move my baby forward, so it is fit for purpose, dressed correctly and presented in the best possible way to the world. But this one word holds me back, makes me procrastinate. Words that excite and pleasure me have now become my enemy.

One chapter at a time; I tried. Too much, the bile reached my lips and pain dug into my head. A page, I can do a page I told my self; I was being ridiculous. I have perspiration  plopping on to the pages from my fingertips. This really shouldn’t  be this hard, but it is. A sentence, I will do this one sentence  at a time , and rest or walk or something in between. A word at a time is downright ridiculous,  but the pain and dread is palpable.  There must be something I can do, something to stop me having this… Pain.

The Painful Edit.