I realize that it’s been some time since I wrote something that I really enjoyed reading afterwards. An essay or poem that when I read again, I went – wow – did I just write that? In fact I haven’t even written something that was appreciated by others if not me. There might be a multitude of reasons for this apparent “writer’s block”. Here I must digress for a disclaimer. I have never considered myself a proper writer so the phrase “writer’s block” is just that – a phrase. Anyways I might have figured out a reason or two for this lack of prowess.
The first reason is not really an original thought; it was inspired by ‘Dan Humphrey’ from GG. My best creations were sarcastic as hell. They played on the lives and actions of others. Simply put I stepped on a few people without much care to write those pieces. Now to my understanding there are two sides to this. First of all, those writings became popular and ‘critically acclaimed’ – if you would allow me to use the phrase – because of that very disregard for other people’s feelings. They had to take notice because I was writing about something or someone that was very near to them. The reality was the attractive factor though however twisted. The other side is that some people were really hurt because of what I wrote. Not for eternity or anything like that. But for that moment in time what I wrote was hurtful and important. Looking back I realize that in the bigger picture they were just blips but from experience I know that we have a very warped sense of reality. And in the world we create for ourselves from time to time, little blips do matter – a lot!
Moving on, the first reason for my barren run might be my unwillingness to step on people anymore. Here again there are two sides to the argument. My unwillingness might be attributed to a growing sense of compassion towards others but if I am being honest it can as easily be a product of cowardice. Going back to the previous example; during my hay days I wasn’t always the most well liked person around. Back then I could take it because I reveled in my status of a rebel. I could take all that was thrown my way because I had found my niche’ even if that was as a rebel – I still belonged. Now I am not so willing to expose others for the fear of getting exposed myself. Here again we must examine the ever present two sides of the coin. One side I have already discussed as cowardice. The other can as easily be related to wisdom and growing up. One thing is for sure; I do miss the exhilarating feeling of having written something that mattered; if only to a few people and that too within their small ‘fake’ reality. It was still enough to give me a high.
So, when you have exhausted others as a source of reality in your writings, you must turn to yourself. Here, we venture into the domain of the second problem. My personal life is just too…personal – for lack of a better word. In one sense this is related to the first reason. Now I am standing on the other side of the scenario. I don’t want to share these details with the world because it hurts too much to share. It is much easier to keep it to myself and deal with it than to have it presented to the world to dissect. I have written a lot about my life and some of it – in my opinion – is pretty powerful stuff but I am just not ready for a second opinion on it…
Here we must end this discussion. The choice as I see it at this moment in time is either I (man up)/ (become unwise) and start stepping on people and their egos again or I muster enough courage to share my life with others. That is the choice for the moment but like I said we often live in a warped reality of our own creation. Maybe this is mine…
