The worst case of a writers block is when it afflicts one who wasnt a writer in the first place.
Just a while back I was able to construct meaningful sentences, string enough of them together into a paragraph and patch a couple of those together on to a blog post. It didnt invoke great tears of joy from those reading it, but thankfully it didnt inspire disgusting bouts of vomitting either.
Into this uneventful world, entered the villian- diguised in the form of a trip.
It was all fun and games- the trip high, the not thinking of the life ( or the very apparent lack of one) back home, new people, new places and all sorts of things I had not experienced before. And I came back thinking that the trip has been fodder for a great number of posts.
How wrong I turned out to be.
Instead of churning out post after post , I got into a state of restlessness and thoughtlessness. As if my brain had built a wall which didnt allow thoughts to cross over into that place where they get converted to sentences. Even if I struggled and gathered a bunch of haphazard thoughts, they immediately dispersed as if a gale had blown over them and I was left empty headed.
I stayed in this half-awake state for quite a while- coming up with titles or topics to write about without being able grasp the contents which, I was certain, were lurking in some corner of my brain. This was spilling over into my reading as well. I was inclining toward short hollow articles over difficult books, my attention span shrunk to the levels of today's 7 year olds on a special diet of ipad and cartoons. And that is why blog post is what it is.
But this is not the way its supposed to go.
Especially because in my fantasy which at some point I hope to real-ise, I make money by writing. I dont belong to any place, I dont own any possessions, I travel to wherever I feel like and write for a living. Of course I use the words money and writing loosely- to mean anything from 20$, and anything from an essay for aspiring undergrads to the content for the website of a company selling spare-parts.
If this one trip has numbed my brain, I can only assume that lifelong travel is going to cripple my writing hand.
The best laid plans of men, I tell you..
Just a while back I was able to construct meaningful sentences, string enough of them together into a paragraph and patch a couple of those together on to a blog post. It didnt invoke great tears of joy from those reading it, but thankfully it didnt inspire disgusting bouts of vomitting either.
Into this uneventful world, entered the villian- diguised in the form of a trip.
It was all fun and games- the trip high, the not thinking of the life ( or the very apparent lack of one) back home, new people, new places and all sorts of things I had not experienced before. And I came back thinking that the trip has been fodder for a great number of posts.
How wrong I turned out to be.
Instead of churning out post after post , I got into a state of restlessness and thoughtlessness. As if my brain had built a wall which didnt allow thoughts to cross over into that place where they get converted to sentences. Even if I struggled and gathered a bunch of haphazard thoughts, they immediately dispersed as if a gale had blown over them and I was left empty headed.
I stayed in this half-awake state for quite a while- coming up with titles or topics to write about without being able grasp the contents which, I was certain, were lurking in some corner of my brain. This was spilling over into my reading as well. I was inclining toward short hollow articles over difficult books, my attention span shrunk to the levels of today's 7 year olds on a special diet of ipad and cartoons. And that is why blog post is what it is.
But this is not the way its supposed to go.
Especially because in my fantasy which at some point I hope to real-ise, I make money by writing. I dont belong to any place, I dont own any possessions, I travel to wherever I feel like and write for a living. Of course I use the words money and writing loosely- to mean anything from 20$, and anything from an essay for aspiring undergrads to the content for the website of a company selling spare-parts.
If this one trip has numbed my brain, I can only assume that lifelong travel is going to cripple my writing hand.
The best laid plans of men, I tell you..
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