I do not feel like writing…The words will just not come. I sit here typing under the veil of darkness, not knowing what will come of it. My hands clack on, my mind rambling on…nothing coming…nothing at all. Why am I in this slump? Why is my mind so blank. I stare at the white before me that corrupts into my thoughts. The ideas and creativity leaves, abandoning the nothing left behind. Why is this? Why do I sit and let the ideas slip away? Where do they go? Why don’t they come back? Why do they return to me once I leave this place? I float through the world, observing, and thinking. My mind can never be shut off, even under the covers late at night, but why is it that I come here, to this blank screen, and all of that leaves me? With a piano ringing through my ears, and the darkness soothing my eyes, the gleam of the screen is like a barrier to my words. I can not form them, cannot plot, no story will come. My thoughts flow through my hands and across the keyboard jaggedly as I type. The messages are unclear. The ideas are unfinished. The creation in whole is incomplete with gashes and holes, waiting to be filled. My words come quickly as a poem flows along with the waters of a river, although they may not make much sense. The words are jumbled, with the thoughts behind them not very supportive. I am weak. I am unstable. I am empty. My mind…is…

2 replies
  1. Mr. G
    Mr. G says:

    Hmm. It took almost a full minute before I could read the screen. Weird. It was all black.

    I have one word for you: editing. Sometimes, it’s helpful to throw down a bunch of unfinished, incomplete, jumbled, weak sentences. Go back through them later and try to edit it into something. You’d be surprised what you find.

    Again, it’s still better than nothing.


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