Thoughts on writer’s block
I have no idea what to write about. It’s become a point of frustration for me for the past few weeks. It’s not in any way that I’ve run out of ideas, it’s just that everything seems to be… blah.
I am unable to find inspiration in anything i do, write, see or consume in life. All the things that brought me perspective, gave my writing some meaning (to myself, not anyone reading it), they’ve all sort of dried up. It’s come to the point that I think I need an intervention about how to act like myself again. This process started a couple of weeks ago and while there were several factors involved, the precipitating one was a steady stream of bad news. Like I’ve mentioned in passing earlier, I’ve been trying to go do an MBA, but it seems like no one thinks I should, most of all admissions committee people. Ah well, not much I can do about it, but the constant rejections do take their toll in the form of self doubt and a general nothingness attitude to life. I have genuinely stopped caring for most things. I go to work, come back, sleep and go to work again. I went home for a brief Diwali vacation, hoping it would cheer me up and help me clear my head. It has not helped. Nothing seems to be working.
For the first time since I’ve taken a decision to make my writing more regular, i missed a deadline. It makes no difference to anyone, except me. I missed it not because I was busy or occupied (I was, but I had enough time to do the needful), but mostly because I was somehow afraid. Afraid that my voice, the opinions I shout about here are not worth anything anymore. Objectively speaking, they were never worth anything at all, but the constant stream of negativity swirling around me just cemented the whole thing into my psyche and that made me afraid.
It’s not that I don’t have ideas for posts anymore. There are a couple I’m toying with, one rather unconventional thing too which I would love to get a crack at, but it all seems to be daunting and rather pointless. The vast expanse of whiteness that is Medium’s draft’s page is like a challenge. Fill up the canvas, it seems to say, if you’ve got something in you, fill it up and let’s see what you’ve got. After musing and postponing, trying and failing, and generally procrastinating, I finally got something. This. Why not write about the fact that I’m not able to write anymore. It seems to be working thus far. Words are pouring forth in my brain, my fingers are flying over the keyboard as they do when I’ve got something to get off my chest, and all seems to be fine, really.
More than my personal issues, there are other things that are bothering me. A failure of finding good content. I’ve written about this in my previous post, and its ringing rather true. When you see something that moves you at some level, you get inspired to think and then to create. But when you’re stuck with the same old banalities you deal with, then interest is lost. Much of this has to do with the way we consume media these days (chiefly for me, YouTube, Pocket, The Guardian, Hotstar, 9gag, Medium). Many of these curate content to display things that are in a similar vein to what you’ve read or seem before. This leads to a frog in a well situation where you keep getting surrounded by the same old and nothing new breaks through. Books are indeed the answer, and I’ve read some thought provoking ones after the five that I posted about a few weeks ago. But still, something is missing.
This then, was my first brush with writer’s block. Not a lack of thought or ideas, as I had imagined it to be, but a lack of inspiration and willpower. A blank page is a daunting challenge and we should always be grateful when we have the words to fill it up.