Ok, so here I go. Writing forward. I’ve banned the backspace. No more deleting everything as I go. I need to progress even if I’ve nothing to say. I’ve been in the same position for at least an hour. Inching forward then backward and coming up to empty. Again and again.
I think I’ve been struck dumb by expectations. Expectations that I’m supposed to produce something meaningful or at least clever or mildly amusing. I was much more prolific when I had no expectations. No standards. I just created. If this was all about writing for an audience. About generating content worth reading, then perhaps this would be a good thing? Or at least not as negative as this feels. But I write for myself. For my health. For my sanity. I need to be able to express myself. Any self. All of myself. Whatever that means in the moment. I need to feel.
Where has the poet gone? I’m here. I’m just stifled without anything good (enough) to say. With a voice in my head complaining that rhymes are trite. That angst doesn’t look good on a fifty year old man.
I started writing back in 2020 using the #vss365 prompt from twitter (vss = “very short stories”; 365 = ‘daily”). I somehow wrote something everyday using that prompt for a year and never second guessed myself. I even drew some type of illustration for each one. The illustrations might have been simple but they conveyed meaning. They did the job. Today, I can’t think of anything to write despite the voice in my head having so much to say. And every sketch line I draw begs to be undone.
Even as I write this bit of nothingness I keep pausing. Wondering what is next. This is not how I flow. This is not the therapy I need. I wish. I pray for the mental blocks to unlock. The dam to break and let me flow again. Let my feelings out in words. Let my words fly. Let my words fly.
Be well,
Monty
Monty’s Blahg 
I can relate to your words very much. It is quite on my blog but oh so loud in my head. There are no poems in my fingers and every word is tainted with selfdoubt. And you are right about expectations… It is easier to write without any expectations but is that even possible? As I said, I can relate. Hang in there 💜
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I’m not sure how possible, but let’s keep trying 🙏
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Monty, I enjoy words – yours, mine, anyone’s. The expectations and limitations we experience are mostly of our own construction. I’ve never had a reader say that my poetry is not up to my usual standard (even if I’ve felt that myself).. I look at blogging as my own exercise in bravery. I used to write in a blank book that no one ever read. Then I started blogging. Still no one read it. Slowly I gained readers and most became friends. I still write for me. And I welcome any who want to peek into my world. You have a unique voice and should use it. Be brave. Be you. Write your truth. Use your words!
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Thanks for your always supportive feedback. Write on!
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I love the colors in the last Square?
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Thanks!
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