/lit/ - Literature

>>18582219
I am losing my fucking mind.
I think I'm averaging somewhere between 7-10K words every day now, sometimes even more. Today I sat down and wrote almost 5K words for a single piece in just under two hours. I've never written with that kind of speed and conviction before. It was like my body had been overtaken by a preternatural force. Invigorating the whole way through, but once I ran out of juice I felt more akin to a puppet cut from its strings. But every time I do run out of fuel for one project, I pick up another. And another. And another. Truth be told, I'm doing way more than the average human being probably should be at any given time. So much so that some "important" responsibilities I need to focus on so I can maintain normalfag career connectivity/relevance has been falling far and beyond to the wayside.
I'm on a borderline psychotic quest to become a one-man army. I have a little less than two months of NEETdom left before I'm thrust back into my education and have to start dedicating time to ideas and feelings I no longer have much conviction toward. The future looks bleak from every angle and it's making me panic, making me throw as much shit at the wall as I can to see if it sticks. I've finally managed to count the number of ideas I have and, despite making a guess before, it turns out I was right. Thousands. 5,735 individual ideas for shit to create under a multitude of names in different creative, commercial, or alternative spheres. Many of the ideas are standalone works (novels, short stories, flash fiction, etc.) or series with a modest number of entries (typically 5-8 novels each), but that's only the tip of the iceberg. Some of the ideas are thematic YouTube channels covering specific topics. Others involve having to teach myself drawing or music to get those stories told. Some are serials with thousands of chapters. Three ideas are full-fledged series with over 100 novel-length entries each. Others still are so out there and experimental I have no idea how to describe them.
On top of that is everything else. Getting lost in the consumer culture. In understanding how different works of art do and don't work so I can apply quality to my quantity. I'm planning out a schedule of a smattering of media from various countries and eras I can use to understand how storytelling has evolved and how I can improve my works through the gifted creators that came before me. Though sometimes it's hard, always understanding things, when running on 6 hours of broken sleep every night.
But I can't stop. My body and mind won't let me halt in the creation/consumption cycle. It's a hunger. A festering hunger that I have to complete and consume all of these works before my life ends. But it's too daunting for a single person. I only have two options: Run headlong into a life of mediocrity I will never be satisfied with, or chase my dreams into the pit of an early grave.
And honestly, I think I'm going to choose the latter.