Bad Poetry Relieves Stress


I don’t’ know what to do with myself when I am stressed, idle and unable to put into words how I feel. This article I read on ThoughtCatalog (I’ll dive into that a little later) said you have to get out all the bad stuff so you can get to the good. So… this is my rambling, cliché, melodramatic poem:

I’ve never felt so stuck as a writer
Nothing to say really
Forcing a concept until I see it more clearly
Drawing a blank more often than not
Glimpses of ideas one moment. The next… damn. I forgot.
And what is this ‘writer’ title anyway
This name we so swiftly dub ourselves
Without the corresponding resume
Forcing it
Not saying sh*t
Even now as I clutch the pen
It’s apparent that I’m struggling
My prose flows differently than my thoughts go
That’s a problem
How am I both the blogger dying for their first print
And the editor sent to stop them?
My creativity’s getting choreographed
I can much less even describe a laugh
That joy I had when the sun teased me from the window-side
Has vanished as soon as summer went to hide
Desk job leaving me dry
Yet, here I sit. Writing to pass the time
To get me started again
The words were my friends
The paper my mate
But me and this stationary just can’t seem to procreate.

Okay so I guess I made my point that I’ve been going through an awful dry spell. Writer’s block is a heaux. I’m striving to be a woman of less complaint and more solutions, so…. I read this really insightful “advice” article about how to be a better writer. He pretty much said (with extremely witty diction, might I add) to stop reading up on “how to be a better writer.” Just write more, write how you’d normally think/talk and stop trying to be extra.

Noted.  

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