Sometimes it’s not even enough to bleed crumpled thoughts on a sheet. In the quest to pour raspberries on mind’s slate.
The mind works like an artist nagging its nerves to burst those emotions that were forgone by the soul.
Some scratches/ screeches crawl naked to practice necromancy at home. A home where things booze in head articulating chappels of dark thoughts.
I realise that one can’t rely on drinking gallons of positive syrup when the mind holds pessimism.
Sometimes it seems like chasing UFO in the deserted area where no human exists. Like running in a never-ending marathon that leads to draining every square of blood.
These were thoughts that disturbed me often breaking the continuity to write. Is it happen only with me or you all people struggle with these kinds of thoughts. Instead of calling it a writer block, I will name it mind’s lock.
Looking forward to reading your views