"If I'm trying to sleep, the ideas won't stop. If I'm trying to write, there appears a barren nothingness." ~Carrie Latet
I'm not going to lie. Often when I try to sleep the ideas politely stop. Hell, on most nights, even if burdened with all manner of thoughts and worries, I tend to slip effortlessly into the peaceful blackness of slumber. I guess you could say that I kick sleep's ass.
But there is an ass I don't kick, an ass that mocks me. It is...the barren nothingness. I know this terror like I know every square inch of my hairy, gelatinous body, and yet I am powerless to defeat it. No matter how exciting the tale to be told, when I take up the pen the barren nothingness comes along and makes me her bitch. Hurts. Bad.
For my part, all I hoped to gain over the course of my adventure in blogging was a little amusement and enough writing practice to feel confident that if I had something to say I could, uh...yes ma'am
Monday, August 27, 2007
Pain, and lots of it
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4 comments:
I too am confined and confounded by my inability to form a thought worth typing. The dearth of imagination is the result of climate change (not global warming now that the left is hedging their bet) so it really isn't my fault. I will try to climb from the depths of dearth as soon as something strikes me as worth undearthing.
That's pretty funny for you, which leads me to believe that somebody else thought it up.
Your comment oozes of jealousy but how could you NOT be jealous?
I think this is good writing as well as (and because it is) entertaining.
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