Let the Practice Do the Work

11:04 am and I have pasted a picture of Angelina Jolie into a word document and written two paragraphs about the imaginary country I think she should rule
But now I’m staring at the blinking cursor on the document where the paragraphs about her neighboring kingdom is supposed to go
Nothing is coming out of my brain and actually it feels like a little bit of smoke is curling up from the tiny ember that was my morning creativity
I don’t know what doused it but Angelina isn’t doing it for me anymore
Please don’t ask me why she is involved at all
It worked at first
For a little bit
I’m so tired now
This “open a vein and bleed on paper” routine I dig my heels into all nose to the grindstone proper and determined every day like clockwork without fail stuck in the rut of this repetitive motion disease called habit
This open a vein and bleed into the sink routine I dig my heels in pulling my face away from the bottle and determined every day like clockwork without fail stuck in the rut of this repetitive motion disease called staying alive
It’s just a habit anymore
Putting my feet on the floor and stacking my bones on top of them
Spending the rest of the day pulling out my Jenga pieces and trying to make myself taller with them
Until I crumble maybe at noon maybe earlier maybe later bones a jumble in bed or on the couch or on the floor again
Cheek pressed down heavy as that grindstone I talked about a few lines up only its my brain that’s heavy and my heart
Don’t even ask me about my heart