Blank Page

New Pen, Blank Page
Image Source: New Buddha

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever connect with a thought (again).

The words escape, trickling away from my conscious, until they gather behind a wall, mocking me. Ideas swoop in and out, never staying long enough to present themselves. Flickers of notions, here and gone before I can get my pen out. Not to be.

Sometimes the thought of trying to write another piece, no matter how short, leaves me paralyzed with fear. I try to start and can’t, and I convince myself that I will never finish another sentence again. I try to reach the words behind the wall, but they remain trapped, never to see daylight. The blank page screams in triumph, and I cower in defeat.

Often the exhaustion gets to me. Trying to form and finish a narrative against the backdrop of reality: extremely stressful day-job, long, soul-sucking commute, mortgage, bills, aches and pains, daily maintenance, feeding and watering. Some days it gets to me, and I give fleeting credence to the naysayers in my head, the voices screaming quit and rest.

But I can’t quit and rest, you see. Because I have no choice. Because I am so close to things happening and opportunities presenting themselves and my goal of self-sufficiency through the written word actually maybe, just maybe, becoming my reality.

I have no choice but to continue. So it starts with one word…one word interrupting the purity of the blank page…like a cheap run turning a 10-0 blowout into a 10-1 ballgame…one word leading to two…one thought connecting to another…

One thinker trying to connect with a thought (again)…

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35 comments
  1. metan said:

    Sometimes the words can’t be heard over the noisiness of life! I always find that they come better the moment everyone is in bed and the house has grown quiet. :)

    • I live for those moments, Metan. *grin*

  2. Moments of rest can be helpful to sustain creativity ;)

    • So I’ve heard. ;P

  3. Beautiful word porn Brian! Sometiems words just seem uncontainable, I can’t shut them off. They literally keep me up at night. It is crazy. Moments like you described are what happens when I try to write more than just a blog post. They mock the idea of me writing a book. They just toy with me. It is a love/hate kind of thing.

    • Diseased minds think alike, I always say…

  4. I think you describe how we all feel at one time or another; so, if you didn’t connect with a thought, you at least connected with me. I have no doubt success will come your way and you will have “self-sufficiency through the written word.” A phrase pops into my head from when I was a kid: just keep on truckin’.

    • Jeannette, you are too awesome for …ahem… words, thanks. My night is made, reading your thoughts.

  5. Your thought will come when it’s ready and it will be magnificent…be patient and all will be good.

    • Life…, you are the awesome. So glad to have you here, thanks!

  6. John S said:

    Just write anything that comes out. You can always scrap it later. One thing flows from another. At least that’s what I find.

    • Thanks, John! My whole life is a re-write. So far, so good, save for an occasional constipation day. ;)

      • John S said:

        We can all relate to that!

  7. LOVE this:)

    • awww (blush), thankya, ma’am.

  8. Me likey: “like a cheap run turning a 10-0 blowout into a 10-1 ballgame”

    Yummy in my tummy!

    • Great, that’s stuck in my head now, thanksalot. (Fortunately it’s the Homer Simpson version)

      • I swear it wasn’t deliberate. I’m being unintentionally evil tonight. It’s like those people who lose control of their hand…and it tries to kill them.

      • BTW, thanks: I like that line. Total encapsulation of my ADD/OCD. That one run just BOTHERS me, ya know?

  9. Yeah, I HATE it when the hand takes over and grabs the nearest pruning shears…

    • Is that where your hair went? Dammit! It’s not me. I swear. It’s the hand.

      • BAH!!! Well played! And I can esPECIALLY laugh since tonight, having grown what’s left out since January, I actually got my first haircut in five years. Take THAT, aging!

    • Bad hand! Very baaaaaadddd hand! There. I rubbed it’s nose into the keyboard. I swear it won’t happen again. I’m only mean to clowns.

      • Maple-sucking, metric-loving, second-world hoser Canuck clowns, that is. Because they deserve it.

  10. I’m married to a writer. I know the torment. He scribbles on corners of napkins in what looks like micro-fiche. When it happens, there’s no stopping it. Be open and align your energy with your creative flow. (That sounded super groovy, didn’t it?) It does ebb and flow. Creative juices seem to have their own rhythm.
    Anyway, you seem to have an endless well of creative thoughts and words ‘a plenty’ in your tool belt. You make it seem effortless.

    • You are so spot-on, Grip, and thank you so much.

  11. Love the pic at the top.
    But it pales in comparison to the text.

  12. This post couldn’t have come at a better time for me. Thank you :)

    • So glad to hear that, Jen, thanks.

  13. I hate the blank page, but you did something wonderful with it today:)

    • Sweeeet, thanks! Great to have you here, Jennifer!

  14. simple but neat

    • Thanks! Good to see you!

  15. Dana said:

    Love this and so true. I wrote a silly poem that had a similar idea though you expressed the experience much better. The ideas hiding behind a wall got me. You know they are there, they tease and mock. Best to ignore them like a cat and find that they come running when you do.

    • They always come, eventually, right? Gusher days after constipation days. I’d love to read your take, also!

      Thank you so much for dropping by, Dana! I have an amazing community here, and the more the merrier.

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