Writer's Block. The E.D. of an astute penman. It will bring even the most sound of ink-thinkers to their wits end. There’s really no viable comparison to it in any profession. If you’re a professional athlete, you don’t just go through periods where you forget how to play the game completely. And if you go through a slump or an injury, guess what, you’re still getting your paycheck. If you’re a doctor, you don’t go through moments in the day where you completely forget where to make a surgical incision on a patient with a given sickness. (At least I sure hope not). If you are in a field that requires any form of creative writing, as I hope to be in someday, writer’s block is the most helpless feeling imaginable.
Feeling mentally incapacitated is not fun. I think sometimes that one of the main reasons I have not been locked up for a violent crime in my life is because I can transcribe those feelings into a song, a poem, or just a rant, and avoid possible outbursts on the public at large. I think that we as a society are unaware of just how close to the edge a good portion of the people around us actually are. That last sentence was wordy. The point I’m trying to get across is that many people around you at any given time are crazy. Sometimes, just a smile and a “hello” will give a person enough reason to cool down. Sometimes they need to write. Everyone has a friend who has at some point put them on their back and single-handedly carried them through a tough time. At certain points however, a stranger can get the job done just fine. And maybe your attempts to be a helpful citizen will be rewarded. I have a story about this…
I was at a bar a few years back, my favorite underage watering hole at the time actually, and two guys walked in. They looked really angry about something, I obviously had no idea what, but I was curious. So I watched them, sipping their Budweiser bottles conversation-less, looking around with glances of ill intent. Feeling a bit on the buzzed side myself, I decided to buy their next round. I went over and said something to the effect of, “you guys looked pissed off, and it’s the weekend, so I just thought it’d be good if you weren’t pissed off.” They both just laughed, more at me than with me, but their moods seemed to change. Upon finishing their brews, they ended up leaving the bar, seemingly with all destructive urges quelled, at least for the time being. Now I don’t know whether these guys left the bar and committed a triple-homicide, or whether they had no bad intentions to begin with. What I do know is that they exited the bar a lot calmer than they entered it, and they ended up leaving 50 bucks for me and my crew to spend after they bounced. (Completely side note, I think this is a solid story, and I feel I have amassed a good amount of stories like this over the years….word)
I think the best cure for writer’s block is just writing about having nothing to write about, because it often times can turn into something. I got from writer’s block to crazy people, and pretty smoothly actually. So yea, I think the major bullet points of this ridiculously scatter-brained blog are as follows:
• Writer’s Block sucks
• Crazy people are all around you
• Extend kind gestures to those who look crazy
• Random stories are pretty awesome
• Writer’s Block loses the battle this time….till we meet again my nemesis
Thanks for reading the ramblings of a madman.
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