The Odd Churning
It happens many times. The sharp twinge, a small pull. I ignore it most often. It does not go away, remains stoic and strong.
The storm that follows is nothing compared to anything I have seen. It is always like this. A tempest of emotions. I am talking about words. A famous man once sang, 'Its only words, words are all I have, to take your heart away.'
When I sit down at my desk to write, I have this feeling of being in the eye of the storm. When I have this urge, I have to succumb to it, give in, write something. This post is also born of that urge, that hunger to see my writing, onscreen or off it.
Life comes to a standstill. I cant hear anything.
Last evening, while I was walking, I tried something new.
Usually, my mind goes on chattering and keeps churning up ideas in a staccato style.
I stopped, took a deep breath and decided to stop it. Do something different. The chattering did not die down immediately. It took a while. But eventually, my mind stopped thinking random mundane stuff and deliberated on the futility of exaggerating mind control techniques.
I reached home. People were talking but for the past 30 minutes or so, the usual chatter was missing. It was kind of spooky at first but I did find it interesting.
I want to find out if I can train myself to switch ON and OFF the demon called 'Writer's Block.'
Kudos to my efforts.
The storm that follows is nothing compared to anything I have seen. It is always like this. A tempest of emotions. I am talking about words. A famous man once sang, 'Its only words, words are all I have, to take your heart away.'
When I sit down at my desk to write, I have this feeling of being in the eye of the storm. When I have this urge, I have to succumb to it, give in, write something. This post is also born of that urge, that hunger to see my writing, onscreen or off it.
Life comes to a standstill. I cant hear anything.
Last evening, while I was walking, I tried something new.
Usually, my mind goes on chattering and keeps churning up ideas in a staccato style.
I stopped, took a deep breath and decided to stop it. Do something different. The chattering did not die down immediately. It took a while. But eventually, my mind stopped thinking random mundane stuff and deliberated on the futility of exaggerating mind control techniques.
I reached home. People were talking but for the past 30 minutes or so, the usual chatter was missing. It was kind of spooky at first but I did find it interesting.
I want to find out if I can train myself to switch ON and OFF the demon called 'Writer's Block.'
Kudos to my efforts.
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