Sunday, 12 January 2014

Writer's Block

Blink, blink, blink.
I stare at a blank page.
The cursor flashes on and off, on and off, on and off.
I start to type.
"Hello everyone, I would like to talk abou-" [delete]...too formal.
"Waddup homie-" [delete]...too informal; no one will take me seriously.
I stare, and I stare, and I stare.
Why is it so hard to put my thoughts into words?

Blink, blink, blink.
It's almost hypnotizing, that little flashing line.
My mind is jumbled with possible phrases
But my fingers freeze up, unable to put what I'm thinking
To justice.
I just want to write about my passions:
Music, Abolition, God.
But I can't.

Blink, blink, blink.
"Sophie, you should start a blog!" I thought to myself,
That one day in March.
What was I thinking?
My heart wants to write, but
My mind thinks "You're not good enough."
And what do I listen to?
My heart, of course!
Because I've heard the song -
"Listen to your heart, when it's calling for you"
I want to prove my mind wrong.
"I AM good enough." I tell it.
But am I?

Blink, blink, blink.
If I'm truly good enough,
Then why is this so difficult for me?
"Maybe I'll try writing songs," I say.
I listen and listen and listen to the artists
I look up to.
They can do it, so I can too.
I play a chord on my guitar.
Starting off simple, with a G.
I wait for the words to come...
Maybe a Bm?
Still nothing.
Alright, alright. It must be a C.
I start to get frustrated.
Maybe, just maybe,
My mind has a point.

Blink, blink, blink.
The cursor seems to be staring at me,
Judging me,
Saying "Come on, Sophie, how hard can it be?"
I turn off my computer and switch to paper.
No more flashing.
No more pressure.
Surely it should be easier now?

Blink, blink, blink.
The lines on the page are running together
As I try my hardest to blink the tears of frustration
Out of my eyes.
I can't write.
I sigh heavily and rip the page up.
My mind won.
I guess writing just isn't for me.

[Writer's Block - an original poem by me]


  1. Your mind should read this poem. Beautifully-written truth. Writing IS for you - poetry-writing, anyway. I'm awestruck ... and crying. xoxoxoxoxoxox

  2. I agree Sophie - writing is for you!
    Sometimes it's one wee little step that you take - and then you find yourself thinking, "I have no idea where I'm headed today, maybe I should just go back home and forget it..."
    Sometimes it's a brick wall that stretches out across the whole horizon in front of you - cold, hard, and impossible to see, feel, or imagine around...
    Sometimes it's a warm sun shining on your face that lulls you into joy that touches your very bones...
    Sometimes it's grumpy and temperamental.
    Sometimes it even spits in your face - and you decide to cast it away forever.
    But then, when you least expect it, your pen and paper will sneak up behind you, tap you on the shoulder, or whistle a real quiet, beautiful tune, and you find yourself unable to NOT write about it.
    There is a welling up of wind-clouds within you - an ocean tide of little ripples that grows and grows into something thunderous and wild - and you find yourself running after it with both hands outstretched - you WILL catch it, and when you do, you WILL NOT let it go.
    You WILL find a way to craft it into words.
    It may take a while. It will not always be easy. It will take practice, perseverance, and many false starts.
    (And yes - tears, sighs, frustration - doubt, discouragement, seasons of seeming impossibility).
    But, Sophie, I know there IS a song that lingers deep within you, and that if you keep going one little step at a time - learning, gaining confidence, not fearing the page or the honesty required to put words out into the world - that you will have the joy of "getting it right" - you will begin to understand the fickle, yet wonder-filled terrain of the pursuit of creativity - and you will have the great satisfaction of sharing with others the song of your heart "when it's calling for you"...
    I'm looking forward to hearing more of your song in the days ahead!