Frustration

Few things in life are more frustrating than writer’s block. A really bad case of writer’s block can result in one becoming completely incapable of verbal expression of any form. Consider, for example, the hypothetical situation of a blogger whose last post was published on 31st December 2005. That makes it six months and 19 days. Close to 5000 hours of sheer mind-numbing aggravation at the fact that the mind is brimming with thoughts, emotions, ideas, anecdotes but the brain is simply incapable of organizing them into any sort of coherent text. 5000 hours of melancholy, of depression, of disappointment, of self-doubt. A sinking feeling that one is simply not living up to expectations, even though one would love to (“Hey, awesome blog! Why no post for ages?” “Looking forward to your next post!” “Knock knock. When are you going to start writing again?” “Please don’t stop blogging!”) In this purely hypothetical scenario, the blogger (if he still qualifies to be called one) finds himself stuck in a downward spiral of communicative frustration and self-directed rage. Every failed attempt to write (11 posts – all begun, none completed - each more bitter and contrived than the last) further compounds the desperation, a sinking feeling that what was once one’s art, one’s talent, one’s passion, one’s window to the world is no more the force it once was. The flow, once effortless, has all but ceased. The energy is ebbing, the flair is missing. The ability is wilting, it’s waning, it’s dying. And, in what can only be a karmic ironic twist, the only topic he is finally able to bring himself to scrape together a passage about is the damned Writer’s Block.