I'm My Own Inner Demon

ISAAC PATTON'S POV

For those who don't know, here's an introduction. Let's roll the clip, shall we? My name is Isaac Patton and I'm a writer.

I mostly publish erotica books, and I enjoy writing about the warmth and affection of my characters to one another. I focus on pleasing the hopeless ones until it wasn't that much of a challenge for me so I switched genres.

Well, there goes my fanbase of teenage girls undergoing hormonal growth. It's hard to let go, especially when you honed yourself with it. But I had to put an end to it and get out of my comfort zone.

If you were to ask me what kind of publishing do I prefer? I'd rather do self-publishing than make the publishers read the shit I write for them to review.

I'm my own critic and no one should dare change the masterpiece I type into my laptop. At least let me control something else because I couldn't do it when it comes to my very own life.

I didn't know that this transition would cost me something critical and that is the process I'm doing, and this is the first time. I simply ran out of ideas, and I can't make some weird creatures make love.

I'm no creep, my ideas just don't make sense sometimes. It takes someone to drain their brains so it could mean something.

When I think about it, the pain gets worse. I had to take paracetamol to ease the headache. It lessens, but the consequence is even horrendous. I couldn't sleep at night after taking it.

I don't know why but my body doesn't so well when it comes to stuff like that. What's the reason to stay up all night and think about the blankness of your brain?

It's fucking empty and I couldn't do anything to fill it up with something that'll oil up the rusty gears up my brain. I need inspiration, but I ask myself how do I get unmotivated without even feeling it?

It's sickening, I can easily tell that I don't like it.

Why do I have to suffer? It makes me think I deserve all of this.

Did I do something wrong? Or I'm just making a fool out of myself?

Could be both, perhaps. The interconnection baffles me.

I'm no soldier, I'm not tough enough to deal with situations like this. Is there anyone that could help me out? No? Fine. I'll do it myself. This is the first time I get to man up, but how? Again with the questions, I guess I'll have to find out.

Escaping? It could be the only solution. I needed time, but it wasn't on my side. I don't have time to cry, either. I spent my whole life sobbing in agony and I'm tired of going in that circle again. I got out of that void and I don't have plans on coming back again.

But where to? Ah, I know a place. Palomino Village. The sound that the lake does is just so soothing that it might help me out. My father goes there when he feels so lost, and that's where he met mom. Did it become their dating place? Heh, almost.

The village is quite developed now, actually. With the tall trees, chirping birds, and some more friendly critters you could find. They also have these huts and cabins too. But what caught my attention is that lake. They call it Cattle Lake, and it sounds cute, to be honest.

I guess I'll have to book myself a vacation. Even so, document what's in there and ask the people who live there. All I need is a kickstart to get things going again. Who knows? Maybe that'll lead me to stardom.

Palomino is something else... I can't even describe it on my own. I need to find out why and write it down.

To be continued...