Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Can't write. Nothing to say.

I seem to have lost my voice. My writing voice that is. I am talking about that inner monologue of interior conversation that comes to mind when I sit down to voice a few things that are on the tip of my mind. It is operating to some extent, as I am able to type these words, but as of late, each time I have passed my blog, it seems to hush itself and then reverse its neutrality into some sucking, reality vacuum of ideas and words. It is almost as if anything I do try to think about gets lost into the void, so I keep going and try not to worry about it.

Trying not to worry about a blank spot in your brain is not an easy task. In fact, just writing about it now is making me wonder if there is something wrong with me. I know there are many different things about me now, but I am unable to really put too fine a point on it.

Yesterday, after work, I stopped by the house, changed clothes, grabbed my kite and headed to the park of the Nelson Art Gallery. I had a great drive on the way into the city with the top down and the weather was perfect. I spent the next hour or so, flying my kite and listening to music, just tuning out the world, looking into the sky and enjoying the moment. I did not realize that the lawn had just been watered and mowed, so after a time, my shoes were soaking wet and covered in clipped grass, but I really didn't care. I just flew my kite.

Once I reeled it back to earth and packed up everything I decided to stop by and grab a bite to eat and a drink at a friends restaurant. The usual weekday afternoon suspects were there and I enjoyed a bit of time catching up with the guys as I know that work there and frequent the place. I don't even know why I am writing this so I am going to stop.


1 comment:

  1. Ah, that. I lost my ability/will to write for almost two years straight. I'm only just starting to come of it, but not quite.

    One day I opened my journal to empty my head of thoughts - a daily ritual - and suddenly my mind went blank. Nothing would come out, even though when I'm *not* attempting to write my head's buzzing with ideas, observations and events.

    I stopped writing, waiting it out. Two years passed, and during that time I'd occasionally flip open my journal and ache to be able to write again. I'd attempt little entries, but they would be so forced that I'd often end them prematurely in disgust.

    So instead, I sketched. My entries turned into quick doodles of scenes from my week or ideas I had. They weren't as frequent as my old entries, but they were something; they let some of the pressure in head out.

    Maybe you should try a different form of self-expression and share them on your blog. Maybe you could ignore the sudden mental reticence and just jot down what happened during your day until the energy to write a 'proper' post comes back. Whatever you end up doing, though, don't stop updating the blog :) It's one of my favorite nooks on the Web, and I look forward to your posts, even the ones that you seem to not like – the ones detailing your activities.

    It'll pass, don't worry too much about it.