. . . . i’m not going to sugar coat it. to tell you that it’s just a case of writers block would be the farthest from the truth. the ideas of new overflow in my head and the ability to write has seemed to have temporary disappeared – something’s missing. hurdling a wall that can’s even be climbed, the frustration mounts as the ideas get blocked by distractions. the audience awaits for another desired rhyme, but the stage sits empty. just is the momentary season of without – and a life without is just that – just. i sit with my pen and paper, and all i do is just stare at a blank piece of parchment. looking for that moment of break through that brings another fulfilling story. letters drawn up to form words, but the words have nowhere to go, and draw up the incompletion instead. mumble jumble nonsense goes nowhere and the thought of the stories once written mislead. ive sat in this chair night after night, trying my best to complete just a paragraph, and i cant even do that. . . . . .
c. 2013 bgw