I have a little problem.
Well… apart from that I have another little problem.
Every day I have this urge to write. It’s like an itch where no amount of scratching will make it go away. If I don’t write then I end up with a feeling of emptiness; a feeling that I have missed something. It’s crazy, I know but that’s my little burden that I have to carry these days.
Now that’s all well and good if I have something to write about, but a lot of the time my writing head is blank. I have heard numerous times that if faced with a blank page then just write something. Anything. It doesn’t matter what just so long as something is written. I have heard it said that it’s easier to sell a newspaper full of literary garbage than to sell blank sheets of paper. Obviously the modern press has taken that advice to heart?
But here is the problem.
Once I have written my piece of garbage my instinct is to run away. It’s like walking into a pub, shouting “Hello everybody! I’m here!” and then running out again. I am brave enough to try to initiate a conversation but then shout “nah nah nah” with my hands over my ears if anyone replies.
The problem is that having written, I have banished the itch. I have expended my energies. I am free to do something interesting with my day such as doing the washing up, or scratching my balls or even having a nap. It means I am useless when it comes to comments, both here and on all the other sites I visit.
So now you know why no one ever hears from me.