Monday, January 23, 2006

[A] Blockage

It sits there, mocking me.

Days ago I thought I’d left this behind
believed I’d given it the slip
pulled the wool over its eyes
put it to the back of my mind

but like a frightened horse it rears up its head

I cast my eyes to the ground, hunch my shoulders and pull myself inward

I’m writing this with a gun held to my head

so it seems

must let the words flow and try not to think too much about style, form, content; just let things move

out of my head in a constant stream

a waterfall

still it sits there, mocking me.

my writer’s block.

4 comments:

purplesime said...

Word constipation - is there a cure?

Over the past three days I've started several stories, but not one of them has 'felt' right. So, I've stalled.

Every time.

Hoping this small piece is enough to get me moving again.

purplesimon out...

Kat said...

This was great. Perhaps it was the cure?

Chris said...

Yeah. What Kat said. This one continued the wonderful lyric quality of your recent stories.

I also posit the theory that you might be trying too hard. I find that when I start stories that fall apart as I'm writing them, it's because I'm trying to write instead of just writing.

So, stop trying to write and simply write.

And that is your half-assed quasi-zen bullshit for the day. ;)

purplesime said...

Kat, Chris: me thinks you were both right.

I think I was just bored and therefore inspiration was hard to come by.

purplesimon out...