I tend to murder the words that I grow too close to. It usually happens in the fifth to last edit. They keep fighting for life in each attempt to suffocate them. Finally I know what I must do when my demons whisper "yes yes Bigga thats right you are special you are an amazing writer keep it obscure show your big brain"

That is when the killing begins and usually doesn't stop until I am spent, exhausted and contemplating ignorance and couch surfing once more.