Hello, my options are scarce—so I have found yet another far-fetched idea for solving my insane and tormenting mess of a block problem.  A little site actually told me—“You should write about your writer’s block.” And that it “may solve your problems to do so.”


                As goofy and boring as that seems, I’m bordering near the lines of desperate here.

                Alas, I remember when I first contracted you those few months ago my dear W.B. I had just polished off another unedited draft, and leaned back for a long hard break to settle myself.  I would grace myself with overindulgence in soda, as well as ice cream—any other sweet creature I could sink my teeth into (Much to the dismay of my parents.).

                But yet, why is it when I returned to the keyboard, I found myself staring at a document labeled “Skin Deep Chapter 3” with only a big “3” written in 26 bold Arial? Oh the times passed so slowly, yet for those few hours I did nothing but sit in my wooden little chair, waiting for my fingertips to move—only to find them working solely for programs like msn and Youtube. Certainly, those are of no use to a person like me—so I decided maybe I was simply “not in the mood for it.”  I would “try again later.”

                The next day, but still nothing broke through upon my pages. As for the day after that an onwards till today—my precious block still sits in my lap, refusing to silence himself. Behind me stands the tall, German dominatrix librarian whom calls herself my inner editor.

              The two never stop fighting—and honestly it’s given me quite the headache.

               So to my dear beloved and scornful Writer’s Block, if it is not all that much…


               Could you please go bother someone else for a change?

                Three months is much too long a time to put up with this.