Now We Understand Each Other

Blank pages. You know, I see a lot of blogs start this way, a comment on the blank page. I just did it myself and I can confirm it doesn’t hold any artistic value, it’s just an observation. It’s just a couple of words to make the blank page a little friendlier and give me a way to begin this conversation. I guess it’s an ice breaker. So, really, should we appreciate the blank page a little more? Everyone likes an ice breaker. 6th of August, blank page appreciation day.

I haven’t written here in some time. I haven’t written anything of any substance in some time. It’s all been notes, staring at walls and daydreaming to music. The usual lazy writer stuff. But, I’m not lazy. No wait, maybe I am. I don’t know.

Depression. We all have it don’t we? I mean, I guess we do. Supposedly, anyway.

I’ve been pacing in my room. That’s the kind of thing caged animals do, isn’t it? Walk from one point to another over and over. You get to that point where you think “ENOUGH.” and then there isn’t much else to think. You sit down and you try. You have to keep trying even when you hate it. I hate writing. There, I said it. I hate it. It’s hard. My head isn’t ever clear enough to make sense out of what I’m thinking and translate it to words. It never feels like it is anyway. I end up on the otherside of another type of bars. These ones. And this isn’t me trying to be poetic or whatever other bullshit it might come across as. I’m stuck. I’m alone. I hate this. I just want to talk into the abyss. Hear it echo and imagine it’s my soulmate calling back because they get it. Does anyone “get it”? What the fuck is “it” anyway. This invisible cage. How pathetic.

I feel like I’ve said all of this before.

I have on the wall in front of me two pieces of paper taped together with the word “WRITE” written on it in capital letters. But, what’s the fucking point in telling myself to do that? I know that’s what I want to do, it’s all I think about (well that and locking doors: 1,2,3,4). Stories and characters and scenes. I feel like a quitter and I haven’t even quit yet.

There isn’t an ending to this post. It’s open ended. I guess I didn’t plot it clearly enough.

One thought on “Now We Understand Each Other”

  1. Dude. This is exactly me right now, I totally relate to everything you’ve said. Hell, it saves me having to blog about it…though I probably will anyway. We’re writers, it’s what we do.


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