The words won't come. I stare at the screen. I stare at the paper, the pen. I change ink colors; I change fonts. I sit on the coach, the floor, my bed. Nothing helps.
I have almost become a writer in the past year or so. Everything allows me to write, and get instant freeback. Always before, my only comments would come from myself, rereading the writing weeks, months later when I stumbled upon it. My comments were never positive, it seemed. I love to write fiction, but am still trying to figure out how. Writing is so much harder than it seems.
Everything has helped. I write more, and on my more varied topics. And, yet, somehow, the past few weeks nothing has come to me. I've noded a few lyrics to songs, but not many. I feel noding too many lyrics becomes noding for numbers, I thing I depise. But I can't find anything to write about, nothing worth my time or those that have to read it.
Heck, look at this daylog. I'm writing about having a writer's block. Guess it's a paradox. I hope that by writing, typing, somehow words, topics, writing will come to me.
It's not.
Perhaps I'll go back to my floor, and try a red crayon.