It’s enraging that at the time in my life when I truly need to write, somehow I worry if I’m still able to.
It’s not really about attempting to write and failing, it’s the perpetual problem of finding every possible distraction to keep me away from the keyboard so I can’t discover that — in fact — I have nothing to say.
I know I have things to say. I know some of them are relevant to a great many people because they are relevant to me. Despite being odd and loudmouthed, I’m not so different from everybody else.
Yet, I make myself overwhelmed with things to do, and places to go to. I convince myself that there’s a perfect environment in which the words will flow through me and out onto the screen. When I get to that perfect environment, I find a reason:
- I want to talk to this person, maybe they’ll inspire me
- I need this drink, and then I can start
- There’s someone out who sent me an email and is waiting for a reply, why make them wait a second more?
- Shit, I need to pee now
- Hmm, I’m sure checking Twitter or Instagram won’t distract me
- Oh I know, I’ll take out my notepad and start writing with a pen instead!
- Wait a minute, I had a nice draft on a similar topic before, I should finish that instead
So many excuses.
What’s even more enraging is that this digressive nature plays a great part in my creative thinking and problem solving abilities. But in moments like this, when writing isn’t the relief but the task at hand, it becomes so difficult to turn down the volume of a world I find so exciting and inspiring. It feels like disconnecting from the very thing that keeps me alive just so I can better talk about it.
It feels hard, but the solution is obvious: start writing.