Chewing Off Writer's Block
Drink the blank page with tired eyes. Let the whiteness fill your stomach, then your lungs. Awakened, the mind will send you a sample taste of signals. Receive the download on your tongue.
What does delay taste like?
Your fingers will understand that. Allow them to move. To react. Jump over the keyboard, or snatch a pen. Either way, this is a trance. You are beginning to enter a new dimension. Step into the light. The same whiteness of the blank page cannot hurt you. Nothing can burn you tonight.
No need to marinate what you’ve kept inside. Go ahead. Throw your words out into the fire. The stove will not care for syllables or word count. You just need a steady hand to hold and feel everything.
Everything.
When things feel unstable, make sure to focus on what you feel. Don’t listen when the refrigerator sings. The cups and leftovers cannot guide you now. You’re on your own when writing.
A little spice might hit you. A cockroach in the cupboard might disturb you. Let everything come and go. Toss out some thoughts. Rawness is not the enemy here. It’s good you’re no longer frozen. It’s time to begin cooking again.
Remember, when the infinite whiteness bites your face, it is pertinent to keep on going. You are looking at potential in the flesh. Why stop now? You’ve only licked and turned the corner of the first page.