When the mind leaves us

Occasionally, writers suffer writer’s block. Now, is it sensible? Absolutely not. Everyone has words racing through their minds at least most of their waking hours. Sitting down at the blank page, saying that they can’t think of anything, that seems pretty ridiculous, right?

What actually happens, I believe, is that they feel what they are thinking of is nonsensical, or stunted, or just plain not good. They edit themself before even putting it on paper. 

I’ve got stacks and stacks of documents like that – words of mine that I believe inferior to what I’m capable of, or maybe that I’m even ashamed of. Shame in quality, or content, or length, or whatever.

The first draft – it isn’t easy. 

And the first draft of these posts – I mean, that’s why I’m tapping at the keys now. Trying to figure out what exactly this is? These musings of mine. They’re short, I guess, meditations on whatever it is that happens to cross my mind. 

And my mind’s scope is, for better or worse, exceptionally wide. I’ll often take off on tangents of study for weeks at a time, only to abandon the endeavor and pounce off down a new path following something tangentially different. Thus, my mind leaves me wondering, “What next?”

That, I suppose is a very good way to end it, and an excellent prompt for the next piece.

What next?

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