Tuesday, June 9
My head feels like a shithole right now, heavy with dumps and junks that just can't be flushed out. I have a few half-written entries, mainly short stories, saved in drafts. I get stumped after a few sentences. I know I'm no brilliant writer, but I can't come up with something even half decent, much less tear-inducing. Last time I experienced this, I couldn't write a single story for 4 freaking years. People have a term for this: Writer's-freaking-block. Some people argue that writer's block is just an excuse for not being productive. A writer should just trudge on, regardless of lack of inspiration or capability to string words together to make a complete, lovely sentence. A writer's block is just a state of mind. I say, shove it up their jolly asses! Writing is Art, and artistic ventures need inspiration. With the state of mind I'm in, it's a small wonder I can even write this gibberish rant at all. On a lighter note, I'm being critical even though I'm writing crap. I'm filtering out plenty of 'even' even though I'm itching to use that word. I'm even (ahaha...didn't filter that out on purpose. In your face!) counting how many times I use a particular word, how a sentence sounds, and all that technical stuff about writing well. The whole shitty-jing-bang. Oh. And I'm loving being able to cuss about with reckless abandon in this post. It's the state of mind I'm in, see. So, back to this writer's block. I think I should first be an actual writer (i.e. paid to write) to be eligible to have a block. Like, whatever, man. Let me have my demons to fight and bitch about. Then again, I get paid RM40 for each Medical Report I write. Booyeah! I've almost exhausted my options of books on writing. I've bought and read so many that I start to see the pattern. They kinda sound the same, more or less. Hell, I've written an attempt at creating a writing tutorial from reading those books, as well as from my own experience. There's no such thing as reading too much, mind. Not even when it comes to porn. Hehehe. One book that I do find refreshing is Stephen King's On Writing. I love it so much that it warrants a review. One day soon. I promise. Funny thing is, Kinokuniya staff shelved the book along with other Stephen King books in Horror section. A non-fiction about writing, in Horror. Whatthehell?! So, what am I to do? When one finds that one cannot write, one can either rewrite something, or read. I bought Kill Your Friends by John Niven for my sister ages ago, and it's still in its plastic cover. Dark Comedy isn't my preferred genre, but one cannot be restricted when enriching oneself. I may even start reading those Medical books again. Urm. Ah. Gah! This block is. Freaking. Annoying! Just like a festering zit, throbbing, aching to explode with all its purulent glory. Gross. I know. Live with it. Ok. Now to start writing. I mean reading. The hell. Cheers!