Oh my God, I know writer’s block isn’t real or whatever, but I’m suffering from it real bad as of late. Unfortunately for you, dear reader(s), I’m launching an emergency Creativity Resuscitation Plan that involves barfing something out onto this blog every single day until I become unstuck. So, prepare yourself for a lot of descriptions of boring food (beans dumped over lettuce, alternating spoonfuls of peanut butter and jelly, etc.), boring people (the completely inconspicuous man who sits next to me on the bus every single day and gets off at the Burger King stop, library patrons, etc.), and other sad attempts to wreak emotion from everything/anything I come in contact with in my daily life.
I’ve always put way too much pressure on myself to be a writer (I mean, Be A Writer!). The cycle is vicious and goes like this:
1. Write dumb thing.
2. Receive praise, not because dumb thing is not dumb but because it is slightly less dumb than the average person’s dumb thing and/or at least has correct grammar.
3. Think, “Oh my God, I’m a rare talent! I’ve got to hit the streets with this!”
4. Sit in front of laptop with intent of writing new dumb thing in the style of the original dumb thing.
5. Become suddenly unable to think of anything at all. The pressure to replicate dumb thing is too great.
6. Facebook for 3-5 hours.
8. Watch shows on the Internet.
9. Hate myself for not being a writer.
In high school, I was voted Most Likely to Publish a Bestselling Novel. This summer was my 10 year high school reunion, and I never even considered going to it — not only because it’s stupid to hang out with people who were honestly sort of jerks to you during the four worst years of your life (though it is), but because I haven’t lived up to my potential, or at least the potential that my stoned 17 year old peers once thought I possessed. (Also because I’m not married, still have acne.)
So, anyway, I am forcing myself to write something here every day, so that maybe I will learn how to actually write instead of just think that I could potentially be a writer someday and can maybe go to my 20th high school reunion and make out with some dude who wouldn’t even look at me back in AP English.