Ok ok,

I have Writer’s Block. I hate Writer’s Block.

I sit staring at the blank screen, and staring, and staring. Nothing. I have nothing to talk about. Zilch. Zero. Urangumbothu sinthanaigal ariviyaa kottuthu, anaal athai eluthaa ninakumbothu vaarthaigal vara marukkuthu.

A massive writer’s block, like an arctic cold front, has frozen all creativity. My fountain of ideas is a block of ice. I shiver. Why, oh why, do i even bother to write? Perhaps I feel desperate if i don’t. Perhaps i would feel empty.

Well, I’ll just checked my e-mail. Hum, cheap drugs, cheap stock options on a gold mines, cheap Rolex reproductions. An invitation to collect my few million bucks that i have acquired from some dead and rich guy. Some Invitations to look at friendly looking women with very little to pass of as clothes and really huge …… erm .. smiles. Perhaps i should stop writing and go filter my inbox.

Ok, back to the grind. A blank screen. What gave me the idea I could write, anyway? Why didn’t I take up knitting or cooking exotic snail dishes or painting miniature pyramids on bottle caps? Perhaps i should stop at this point and start getting educated on a niche skill.

No use sitting here biting my lips. I’ll work on another article already in process, or maybe start modifying some of my more better written articles and attempt a re-release as an encore publication. That should un-thaw my idea bank.

Ah, that’s better. An article already roughed out. But as I scroll through the story, a terrible truth dawns. The main character is in the gray area and the leading lady is being unfaithful. It’s appalling. I darken the first two paragraphs and hit the delete button. Better to restore and come back another day then write a bad story and get thrashed by the multitudes of anonymous surfers who question my motives and articles with vicious taunting. Perhaps i should stop now, and start investigating the identity of these anonymous surfers and the reason for their loathe.

A cup of coffee, that’s what I need. So I measure out the coffee in excess to make it strong, pour in the water, flip the switch and pace up and down until I hear the beep to tell me it’s ready. Dang, the damn thing is not working. Seems like the filter needs a good cleaning. I’ll just have to make coffee the good old way. Perhaps i can stop writing and fix the coffee machine.

Back in my office I set down my steaming mug and stare again at the screen. Take a sip and stare. Download more nifty add-ons for my phenomenal Firefox browser, which kicks IE’s ass to the highway. And stare some more. Take a long slurp and turn my attention to realigning my stapler, flicking some dust off my keyboard, and checking the calendar. I realize i have yet to do that server statistics summary my boss has been asking. Maybe i should stop writing and start doing some real work. Yeah, right. Wishful thinking.

Obviously, coffee won’t do it. I’ll just check my e-mail again. Might be some new messages. No? Maybe I need a run or maybe a lone walk in the rain to do some soul-searching. I have been dishing out soul searching advices, perhaps its about time i listened to myself. I could go on a lofty quest to search for my angel with wings. That should consume me till the end of my days. Not yet, i decide. Besides, i’m too lazy to get any real work done.

I decide to end posting articles for good and shout down my site. Its not like its raking in millions. In fact, i’m running it at a loss anyway.

Much later, I sit and stare again at a blank screen. Better check the e-mail. What’s this? A note. “Your last article sucked real bad, i’m awaiting your next crappy piece”. A comment from an anonymous reader it seems. Well, maybe I’ll keep writing after all, but I think i better stop for now. Whoever could have thought a simple writer’s block could uncover the multitude of things that i need to do to patch my life.

I have Writer’s Block. I hate Writer’s Block.

Cheers.

ps: I don’t receive Porn Spam in my mail anymore.

Technorati tags: Archtomato, Frozen in Time