Not being able to write anymore is so strange. Stories still unreel in my head continuously, as always, sentences piling atop one another, everything I hear and see and touch turning into words, but when I put my fingers to the keys I can’t write more than a sentence or two or three before the fog rolls in, and the numbness, and the rumble of electric storms in the background. It’s like having a head full of music and no hands. A bebop of words trapped in my skull. I sit at my desk, surrounded by reference books and notes and ideas, and I stare at them like the ruins of some dead civilization, my own personal civilization, gone forever. The epileptic fog rolls in, the mind slows, and I retreat to the couch in a haze and stare.
not that it’s about me, but this ‘Brick is done writing’ episode is rattling me. Have you looked at voice recognition software? I can’t imagine a waxy buildup of stuck writing in your cranium is doing you any good. You have to keep writing.
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Just saw this again. I can write in very carefully managed doses. I no longer push it to the limit. Dullsville.
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