I have to be honest: there are days when I come to the blog site, open up the text window, and then just stare at it. All of the posts in my head flee from the space on the screen. Start typing, stop typing, delete, stop, get some water, start again, stop again. Bang head against desk a few times. Resume staring at screen. Nibble on a thumbnail. Decide I need a manicure. Reject idea of going to get one and decide to do my nails myself. Get nail file. File and stare at screen. Consider writing a blog post about manicures.
Realize that no one wants to read about a manicure. Then realize that knowing that doesn't mean that I won't someday do it.
Decide not to blog, rationalizing that no one will care. Realize that I will care, since I made a commitment to daily blogging. Run through things that I wish I could write about, but can't because I don't know what to say (is X a fine example of dreamy ... or a tool (and why can't I tell)? Why am I so worried about Y? Am I so embarassed about one of my recent decisions that I can't write about it?) and realize -- yep, still not ready to write about any of them.
Type. Delete. Type. Delete.
Decide that music might help. Throw in 30 Seconds to Mars. Lose a moment or two to the contemplation of the beauty that is Jared Leto. Lose another moment to the contemplation of my own shallowness as a result of the previous contemplation. Decide that I don't care that I'm shallow. Mostly. Is it shallow that I care whether or not I'm shallow?
The cursor blinks. Blink. Blink.
Recall reading something about sharks -- how they have to keep swimming or they'll die -- and decide that maybe the only way to get anything out is simply to start getting the words down, one at a time. Just keep swimming. Eventually, inspiration will come.
Just maybe not today.
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