the burden of writer's block

what do we say when there is nothing to say?

“Eruption of volcano”, Mykola Yaroshenko

It’s funny, really. We run around to every platform that will have us because there are so many words and emotions clawing out of us, desperate to be written and read out. We find platforms and we write and write and write, until one fine day, we wake up and realize that the worst of the storm is over.

There is suddenly nothing left to say.

You stare at an empty Word document, the white of the page blinding you, and the blinking cursor begging you to write something; move it ahead. As you stare and stare, your eyes burn and your heart aches with defeat, and the document stays open, until the laptop shuts down. For the fourth time in a week, you get up from your writing spot to realize that you have written nothing.

From there a certain cycle begins. You’ve written nothing → you think you were unproductive → you generalize and come to the conclusion that maybe you aren’t meant to write at all → you don’t write again until the words urge to tear out of you, and your emotions burst out onto paper like the occasional lava → you open a document a while later, confident of your success → you’ve written nothing.

For me it was like this - the second I said to myself, “I am in a block,” I found myself unable to type out a single word, despite feeling so much and having so much to say to you. However, this morning, I said to myself, “you know what? I think my block’s gone.” Lo and behold, here we are.

Yes, sometimes there is truly nothing left to stay. Even the most ferocious volcanoes can stay silent for years. Unless they are dead and completely dormant, however, there is always a chance that they will erupt. They might destroy a lot or nothing at all. The intensity of a volcanic eruption, among other things, relies on the pressure its magma is in. If there were no external pressure on the magma, who’s to say that the volcano will ever erupt again?

I am not asking you to hurt yourself into creating more, dear reader (or should I say creator?). I am asking you to expect more creation from yourself at all times.

Maybe the work you’re creating might be your last. However, don’t let it be your last because you never got out of a block you admitted you were in. Let it be your last when you find better ways of expressing yourselves.

Because here’s the thing, dear reader - as long as we are breathing, we will have thoughts. As long as our thoughts exist, we will always have something to express. To say we are experiencing some kind of “block” in our creation is to say that we have temporarily died, and to be reborn from a spot that low will be harsh.

This letter might not have been a lot, but it took a lot from me to write to you when it truly felt like all the words inside me had finished. I hope I return to you soon, with more things to say to you.

(P.S. Happy new year!)