I've been working on one thing for over a year now. It's a silly little thing, and it sucks, but still I keep writing it. The people have grown to be like friends, and it's weird to stop writing it every day when J returns home. It's funny that writing it, I'm somewhere else, among different people, and I'm different, and when I return back to my own life, I'm frustrated. It's a stupid love story, a triangle, trashy, like the ones you buy for a flight and then throw away.
I write it in English, and I know I shouldn't, because I write better in my own language. But some things are better said in English.
So, about the block. It's not that I cannot write anything, it's that I have too much. I write different scenes, I call them scenes. Then I decide they're too much, or too stupid, and destroy them. I've written 200 pages and destroyed 120.
And I can't read books anymore. I see a beautiful description, and I want to copy it. Plagiate, if you will.