Writing Blanks
Posted in mundaneity, sad thoughts
I need to write.
I know that life is a best-selling novel waiting to be written, yet I find myself staring at my computer screen for hours, with only a measly sentence to show for all my effort. Inspiration, will you ever come back? Seriously, I've heard about writer's block but I never thought it would bother me for so long. I must admit, it's been a good couple of weeks since I had the urge to write about anything. I don't know if it's my utter lack of time management skills or the fact that nothing really publish-worthy happens to my life that brings me down, but I am in a deeply depressing slump.
Passion. There's a word that I rarely get to use these days. I know that if I put my mind into it, I can write something that's worth the five seconds that people actually spend on this blog. Boy, a writer writing about his inability to write must really sound so sad. This sucks.
Maybe I should enroll in a creative writing class. Maybe I should just put my pen down and admit defeat, face the fact that I'm no writer. Maybe I ought to shift my focus towards other things, such as work or my personal life. Maybe I should just put an end to this blog.
That book that I was planning to write about my grandfather will never write itself. How am I supposed to write about another person's life when I can't even make heads or tails of my own?
I have to get over this slump. One way or another, the Stories from the Simian Crease must continue.
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Blank. Bored. Blurry. Beat. Binchee. |
