I want to write about something, i don’t know what. I only know that writing keeps me in a positive state of mind. I want to lose myself in words, write something but I don’t know what. I just want to write the words as they are coming to me filling the white space of the blank page. I just want to write something. Feeling inside compels me to write, but my mind is blank, sits there stil, not telling me what to write. As i type out the words i hope something will come up. Some idea will be born and transferred on this white space of blank page. I have stories inside, coalescing forming unwritable fiction. Too many things is happening inside my head for me to write something specific.
Is it the writer’s block? How do you define it? Is there such a thing as too much thoughts for a writer?
I can feel them colliding in my head, escaping grip of my hand. They seem unwilling to come out and play. I am just writing here, playing with words as i don’t have any fruitful idea. That’s the thing I say. Word play. It’s not something i need to write, it’s how i need to write something. That is what matters to me the most. Not “What?” but “How?”.
My mind is struggling right now. It is as if the serenity of my mind became a turmoil and earthquake of words inside. It’s a chaotic place to be right now. My heart is the one who is telling me what to write, but seems to be having trouble guiding the mind. My fingers are moving as I feel, not think. Never have I wrote this way. Never have I wrote as I go. I maybe stop once or twice, but just to see the words fit together. I still have no idea what i want to write about. Fiction, a fairy tale? Maybe something funny, sense of humor. It is all written inside my mind. The fiction, fairy tale endings, romance, everything. Only they fight between each other. Fiction doesn’t let non fiction to become alive and non fiction doesn’t want to lose it’s touch with reality. Romance is here, in the heart, but comedy, dark poetry, everything what you might find anti romance, don’t let it shine. Nothing can come to life. Every single genre is fighting midst each other.
What is my role in all of this? Is it on me to make peace inside? To justify each as a child of my mind? Are they jealous at each other? Maybe they are like babies? Maybe they are siblings, in their infancy fighting for my attention. If I hold one, the other start to get angry. So they make a mess, make me lose what i held. Make me start all over again. What is happening inside? I want to write something, I don’t know what.
Mind the Gap