Okay, maybe just a month? When you put it out in words like that, a month doesn’t seem all that bad. Haven’t I gone longer without being able to create? Not that I’m aware of in this moment, no – everything is bad and wrong because of this current issue, you know?
A section in one of my university classes on Contemporary Canadian Poetry was aptly named, “Don’t tell me what the poets are doing.” Though not much of a Hip fan (sue me), this line stuck in my brain. It’s going on with me right now.
Cue the eye-rolling and whining: I don’t wanna know what other people “like me” are doing. I don’t want to understand how they combat writer’s block or where they go to get inspired. I actively want to stop beating myself up for not sitting down and forcing myself to write half an hour a day or whatever else tried-trusted-true method someone (feels like everyone) else is doing.
I love the creative process when I’m engaged in it; when I can sit down and have a ritualistic cleansing of my inner landscape via typing out some shit I selfishly think is good enough for the public sphere. It’s my worthy diatribe; the fact that I’m growing and using it for that perhaps-someday literary good?
I’m giving myself a project to work on. Having a tangible goal (or ending) is the way to begin something, at least from my perspective. I have trouble executing because I don’t like wrapping things up. Combine this with the newfound motivation to put something – literally anything – up for my own eyes to see, to remember that yes in fact I can fucking do this, I’ve been doing this…maybe I’ve broken the bad cycle?
The one thing that’s been on my mind the most is how many ideas I have. I was once told by a partner that I have “too many ideas,” and we are no longer in contact (surprise!). Since then, my ideas have thrived. Right now, it's: write a stupid thing in your style and get it out. Think about your thinking and maybe it’ll turn into something.
The best advice I have (and have heard many, many times) for someone else with “too many ideas” is to put them down on paper. Get it out of your head (where we typically can live in isolation) and into the world. Share it with a friend, post it on the internet, tape it to the back of your door, re-read it before you go to bed. Even if it ends up being terrible, it was Your Idea and hey, remember that even Rap God Eminem has written some lame shit.