This page is blank. It is void of black that normal people would recognise as letters, which can be strung together to make words and then sentences and eventually some sort of prose.
This page is blank
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Blank
Writers block is frustrating. Its beyond frustrating, it’s more like self inflicted internal torture. You’ll sit in front of the computer, staring at the blinking cursor stood at the top of the page and the little paperclip will taunt you, cockily scratching it’s head. You’ll stare for a short while, and you’ll begin to form an idea. The idea is vague, without form like a spectre of the mind. It’ll be there for a few seconds and then it fades, fades away. Then its back to staring at the screen, praying that you’ll think of an idea of some merit that isn’t complete tripe.
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..’…’.’..’..’..’.’..
Nope, I thought I had but I lost it.
It’s a battle of wits with yourself, and your smarter than you are.
‘Damn, that would have been a great story’
You say to yourself as you struggle to remember an idea you had thought of naught two seconds ago
This cycle can go on for days. You wearily drag yourself to bed after wasting hours sat at your desk with nothing to show for it.
It’s depressing
Paragraphs are written then hastily deleted after you read it back and decide that it is crap.
Desperately, you decide you have to write something. Anything.
Then you begin to write about how you feel about writers block. The block is still there after you finish, but at least you feel like you’ve achieved something
