Devil’s Den

As I run around in my head against the tumultuous rage inside my pea-sized brain, I slowly realize that the blank page before me isn’t going to be filled, and that I’m going to have to sink into my bed knowing this. Knowing that I can’t possibly write a single damn line that’s worth a penny, or even just a nice piece of candy. Overall it just sucks because I can’t do the one activity that I feel in control of.

It is quite painful to fall inside of this trap as you run through story after story, idea after idea. At times you’re trying to avoid being trapped, yet somehow you just end up getting there faster. The feeling is just murderous. Writer’s Block is just impossible to avoid, It’s like your house just collapsing in on you; One moment your happy and sitting on the couch, and the next your picking up the ruble from the instantaneous collapse.

Another reason I fall inside of this hellish hole, is the fact that I feel that certain writes are disingenuous, as if I just pulled some random words right from my behind and just let them settle in. I begin to concentrate on if people will even enjoy something that has little heart and doesn’t stick to what I personally like. I go deeper trying to find words to scribble down, but not for the sake of writing for enjoyment, but for some red number(s) that care little for me or my improvement. Attention seeking is never good, especially when writer’s block kicks in. It seems that when you reach the pit, the words seem to no longer matter, it’s like the great depression of words, you try looking for anything that can help stimulate you back to the point when you were at you highest. I try not to think that anything that I’ve written in the past is my peak performance, but rather just a series of signals telling the direction I should go in. It’s quite frightening to think that you’ll never make something better, that you’ve reached the end of the road, when in reality you just took a wrong turn. Writer’s Block truly sucks, and it’s only worth, to yourself, to just stop for a moment, let the words go for a second and breath in the air from the outside, find something else to consume you for just a while. Don’t try to find what to write next, just let the kite of words fly up for a little bit, and look around. What is it that is missing?

Well I can’t exactly help anyone to get out of this hellish hole, but I can tell of my experiences and hope that some portion of this text speaks out.