Me on Writer's Block

Right now I am asking myself if I will ever write again.  That’s right.  As I write.  I figure the thought is just as good on paper than it is swimming around in the dark corners of my mind where all doubt and fear reside.   It’s as if I am taunting the thought by typing.  “Come out to play, you little bastard, where it’s sunny.  Hop on my Mac and we’ll see how powerful you are.” 

I’ll let you know how that works by the blog I write or don’t write soon. 

I have always considered my experiences, feelings and thoughts to be writing material, along with anything I learn.  I have realized in the last year that it is entirely possible to have so many experiences and feelings and thoughts and to learn so much in such a short amount of time that they can pile up in such a way that they begin to feel like a blockage.  I always thought writer’s block was a state of having nothing to say, but I feel like for me, it’s that I have too much to say.

My friends keep saying “You will write again…”

I know I will.  Writing is as useful as breathing to me, which makes me wonder if I have been holding my breath, waiting for the right moment to exhale….all over my blog. 

What. A. Year.