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When Your Creative Engine Won’t Start
I spent most of yesterday afternoon sitting at my desk, trying to figure out what to write for my Medium post.
It should have been easy, right? Having just returned from my first ever trip to New York City, I should have been well-relaxed, excited, and brimming over with ideas for blog posts, new novels, poems, and everything in between. That was sure my expectation, anyway. I’d have such a good time, and I’d be so inspired, that I’d be completely creatively refilled.
But, alas, that blog post didn’t happen. And none of my creative writing, either. I was dead in the water; spent most of my time on Twitter.
And it’s frustrating as fuck. I want to do better. I know I need to be writing. And that I can’t do the uninspired/writer’s block/whatever. If the monkey doesn’t dance, there are no bananas, and no tastefully furnished penthouse in Manhattan, to boot.
But, on the other hand, whenever I try to focus and write, it’s like trying to start a car without gas. You sit there, you turn the key, and it’s not going anywhere.
At this point, I’m debating whether or not I’m being lazy and making excuses for myself, or if I need to indulge myself, stop putting on so much pressure about always writing, and always writing the right and viral thing, and just fucking chillax.
