Not Done

Keep trying to get blood from a stone. While exhausted, burnt out, and overwhelmed. While you have lost all objectivity or vision or sense of what is good and what sucks. 
What part of autistic meltdown and burnout isn't clear? This thing is seeping into all aspects of life, slowly choking. I can't seem to write anything else; it's killing my creativity. Who am I if not a writer? Please let this end. 

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