Blocked

Tried writing tonight, but no go. I don’t feel like I have anything to say. And without that, what’s the point of writing anything? If I were extremely sad right now, or insanely happy… I feel like I might have something to try to convey. But tonight, just a big blankness.

I’d scribble a word or two, then immediately erase it. It feels like I’ve forgotten how to begin writing. Usually something happens, something catches, and then what follows is more of a downhill motion.

I tried to sit down pretty soon after I got home from work. I cracked a beer and started some music up. And I sat. And I stared. And it felt like the world just stopped moving. I mean that in the worst possible way.

Eventually, I got really frustrated and left. Made some dinner, watched television, and now I’m here. Writing about how I’m not writing.

For those who may not know, Matt and I are trading poems back and froth, three times a week (Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays). Last month, around mid-January, I just dropped off. Plain up and quit writing. And tonight is the first time I’ve tried to get back in it.

Sorry Matt. I now owe one, which I’ll hopefully get written tomorrow. God knows I don’t want to start stacking those fuckers up, especially not this early in the month.