Cleaning The Keyboard Instead

Sometimes you just sit in front of the computer trying to force yourself to be creative. You write one line. You erase it. You write a new line. You’re not happy about it but you continue writing, hoping that it will come to you. It usually doesn’t. And then when you read what you managed to create you see how the stitches just falls apart. There is too much focus on how or even why someone went from sitting in the couch to standing in the kitchen. It’s structured. You have no sence of scent or emotion and your characters are stumping out cigarettes on the balcony rail just to fill out the space in between. In between nothing.

And then somtimes when you’re doing the dishes or standing in line somewhere it just strikes down on you. That intense feeling that starts with a goofy unintelligent smile and ends with an urgent need to get to a computer, a piece of paper, anything, before the emotion of it all is gone. And even then it’s hard to capture it like you intended. This is the greatest feeling ever but it usually keeps you overwhelmed with the images in your mind and you can’t make heads or tale of it all. So in most cases you end up with a blank sheet at best. Attempting to write at all in such a state usually ends in disaster.

There is some balance there in between that allows for you to actually be creative. Right now I feel stuck between the two in a place where ideas linger but won’t exsist outside my head.

Writing is like therapy for me. Comfort food. I crave it. This is very frustrating.