Writer's Block

Irony Incarnate. I am writing about writer's block. I've had it when it comes to blogging for about a week now. I just don't have any idea what to write about. I've still been writing, but the well has been drying up in more than one avenue. I still write and think about my novel. I still outline and plan. But I haven't had anything to write about in my blog. And I haven't been able to write a new poem in about a month. The well is drying for the moment. The simple answer is that I'd rather be out drinking a beer than typing into a computer at the moment, I guess. Though that is, as it sounds, too simple. That has never stopped me from writing before.

I write from experience. Something happens to me, and it inspires me to think about something. I have been simply experiencing though. Lately, I have just been living. Outside my head, as it were. I look back over this week of writer's block and think I must have not experienced anything worth writing about. This has been wholly untrue. It was a week that was rife with interesting experiences that should have born a plethora of ideas and thoughts. Instead, I unconsciously chose to forget the the thoughts and memoirs in lieu of just enjoying the moments as they occurred and moving on to the next without romancing the prior.

Hopefully the dam bursts soon. I'd like to incorporate both into my life. Yet sacrificing writing is not an option. However, sacrificing living in the present is not an option either. A battle that clearly needs a peace summit and a treaty to match Versailles.