I have no idea what to write. It's been this way for weeks, I fear it'll turn into months. So, I'm just going to write and keep writing whatever comes into my head. No pausing, no breaks for ten minutes straight. Starting my timer now, and... go.
Writer's Block sucks. You want to write, but you just can't. You can't. No matter what you try, no matter what you do. Nothing seems to break this mental barrier, there's no way to smash through it. But that's just the thing: you can't force your way through this barrier. That's not how it works. So, you try and get out for a walk, spend some time with family, try to get the creative juices flowing and, guess what? It still doesn't work.
You have no idea how frustrating it is. Unless you've experienced it, then you do. So that's a stupid sentence, scrap that. But it's frustrating, okay? It's mind-numbing. You just want to write but nothing comes out. This has lasted months, I realise I've just said that I'm scared it will turn into months but in a way, it already has. I haven't written any of my novel for months. Okay, my dog just almost threw up on me, I'm moving away from him.
Okay, I'm away from the puke zone. I'm safe. My brain is running out of things to say, so I'm just going to keep typing. La la la la la. I'm sure other writers use freewriting a lot... better... than I do. I just write random thoughts. Anything that comes to mind. Whereas I'm sure others write actual stories that turn out beautifully. I can't even write right. Write right. That sounds weird, doesn't it?
I wonder how much time has gone, I'm quite getting into this now. But, yes, I doubt my abilities as a writer which I know every writer does. I think it's a part of being a writer. It's not a nice part, sure, but we have to deal with it in any way we can.
This is working, though. I can feel my mind expanding again. I'm going to cook pasta for dinner. Sorry, I'm running out of things to say again. Pasta. It's basic but great. I love pasta, I could never cut pasta out. Ever. Pasta will always be an important part of my life. Wow, what am I going on about. This is riveting content: pasta. Pasta. Pasta. Pasta.
The first time I came across freewriting was in university. On my Creative and Professional Writing course. I miss that course, I took it for granted. I wrote every day, it was fun. That was work: writing. What a life must that be? To just write for a living. That's what I want to do, that's my true goal in life. To just write. But how am I supposed to write when my brain won't work?
My hands are starting to hurt now, ouch. Who said writing isn't hard work? Do you know how much hand cramp hurts? Don't say we don't suffer for our art. I sound like I'm joking, but honestly, we do. It's not easy work. Not by a long shot. But, God, I miss it. I miss it. I don't do it enough anymore. I don't. I wish I did. Okay, that's way too many sentences starting with I's... Grammarly is moaning at me. Why did I download-