Writers Block

Ok I have it writers block!  I haven't written here for well over a month. Which indicates a kind of greyness or depression of the imagination. Writing is like an over flow of imaginations stream breaking out into new fields but when the stream is dry well there is nothing but cracked baking mud and a choking dust blocking all endeavour.

It is frustrating to just sit and nothing comes to mind there are no devils to fight , no ideas to wrestle and sweat on, no great cause to latch onto and joust at. Its just grey outside and in, nothing but the monotony of a modern world which provides comfort but no challenge, and contrived competition but no real heart beating scenarios.

But that is to blame the world when the world as it exists is only real because I make it so, only relevant because I am and only significant because I am a part of it. In other words the problem if their is one lies very close indeed.

So let us strive to engage and engage until it comes because the writing "muscle" like all muscles has to be exercised other wise it atrophies into nothingness. And maybe nothingness is like the lower point of a diving board before it spring upwards. Let us hope so.

Sabastian Junger in the Tribe

encapsulates the dilemma of modern man as he struggles in the comforts of "civilisation" to create that something which enable him to fully live and be free. The dilemma and attraction of a life lived to the full and engaged with and in a community of his fellow man despite taking on terrible risks! But which in the end seems the only life worth living!

 

Maybe this is the  reality of a writers block or a depression of the soul the aching isolation of modern life surrounded as we are by numbing prosperity and the sterility of "progress".

 

OK well I have got that of my chest, a rambling word play-but I did write something!