I am a writer without inspiration, still striving to let the words flow free. I am dammed and damned by my inability to find the right sentences to express myself.
I am a writer with no paper. I have no pen and my soul cannot run away with itself. A moon without a cow, a spoon without a fork. More cats than fiddles, and a dog with no laugh.
I am a writer who cannot write. Stones have been carefully placed across my river and the water is pooling around my ankles. I’m drowning in a tiny torrent of unsaid things.
I am a writer struck dumb by the weight of the world. I am arched and aching, unable to hold my position. I am drowning, sinking, dying. I am flattened.
I cannot breathe anymore.
I am a writer and my hands have fallen silent, unable to sustain the pressure. It’s too hot. I got out of the kitchen, because the cooks, the broth, the deafening silence inside my own head.
I am a writer who is not writing and while I understand suffering for my art, this is a hefty price to pay. My teeth are being pulled, my eyes are held wide open.
I am a writer and I am forcing this out, one stupid letter at a time.
Veronica, this is fabulous writing. Read it again. There is rhythm, there is emotion, there is poetry. Not prose, poetry. You prove my belief that the best writing comes from the deepest of emotions – and in your case, the emotion is extreme frustration. You wrote!
On the other side, go do something nice for yourself. The muse hasn’t disappeared, as proved by the words here. Your muse is struggling to get out just as much as you wish to write. Take a breath and let her come to you.
I really, really, really, like this writing of yours!
Watershedd is spot on. That is poetry – the best kind, not flowery wankfest contrived crap but the soul speaking. What standards are you holding yourself up to? Be careful who you compare yourself with, don’t over think or self edit too much darl. You ARE a writer, whether you wish to be or not, a bloody good one too. As they say in Ireland ‘you didn’t lick it off a stone’ ie, it came from somewhere, possibly via your Mum. Talent will out.
i second what Watershedd and Elaine said!
Definitely agree with the others hon. Sometimes just sitting down and making ourselves write is what’s needed.
Also remember, creative people tend to have a certain cycle when it comes to their art, be it writing, painting, poetry, music. There is ebb with the flow. It’s a natural part of it. And just as right now you’re finding it hard to get the words out, there will again be a time when they flow easily. It’s never just gone forever.
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