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Should you force yourself to write until the creativity comes out of your ass?

What sucks – again – about writer’s block is that extreme urge to write, but unfortunately you have no idea what the hell to write about. I’ve been at it for days; I’ve been staring at a blank Word document for the past week in a desperate attempt to write something. Everyday, I think I set aside time to stare at the Word document hoping that something – hell, anything will come out of my sorry head and into writing.

I’ve been trying to add bits and pieces to previous manuscripts, and I’ve barely made a dent in it. I’ve been browsing through endless pages of Tumblr posts for some kind of hopeless idea – and nothing. I’ve got absolutely nothing.

So here I am, releasing it through a post. I wish that something in my head made sense. I wish a lot of things made sense, yet that wish hasn’t come true yet – to my misfortune. I suppose though that if things made sense, there wouldn’t be anything to write about. The best thing about writing, I think – especially in the realm of creative fiction – is that writers attempt to make sense of things that don’t in reality.

That is probably one of my more amazing realizations at one in the morning. So, after coercing myself to write the whole day, I reckon it’s a good idea for me to coerce myself to sleep.

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