INCOHERENT.

I blink as a blank sheet of paper looks at me, impassively. I look straight back at it as if it would help me conjure some words. Any words. Just any string of words that form meaningful sentences. In fact, I am fine with sentences that bear no meaning too. How can I expect a meaning from nothingness?

Coffee, may be a cup of coffee will push me, invoke my senses, and help me put some words on paper. But hello, how can I do absolutely anything when my mind is soaking in a deluge of thoughts? Thoughts that are strong. Thoughts that are mundane. Thoughts that are half-baked. Thoughts that ache. Thoughts that put me to an ease. And thoughts that don't. If all nooks and corners of mind are occupied with bits and pieces of everything, how can I find a room for eloquence? But I try because that's what I do.

I'm starting to think that a lot of beginnings are paved with endings. And that sunsets signify a life wasted over beauty and charm. What's worth living if you don't witness a sunrise in the hills, over beaches, and in cities that break you down? I'm starting to wonder if you can call your best kiss the first kiss? And if you can leave little notes of goodness each time you leave a coffee shop? I'm trying to figure out if there's more to life than love and loss, and how success is a parameter of achievement! I'm beginning to imagine if there's life somewhere else. And what if nights weren't really made for sleeping? What would we do then? Bare our souls out?

I'm wondering if my curiosity will do me more harm than good like it killed the cat. And how will I know that if I'm not curious? Fudge!

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cs1e0fRyI18

Writing Woes: Looking for Inspiration

Hello!

If you’re wondering where I’ve vanished or if I’ve died, let me tell you that nothing of that sort has happened.

I haven’t been writing much. No, I am not busy either. If you were on Instagram, you would have known that all I do is consume gallons of coffee. But the good part is, I have been reading a lot.

Let me tell you this though. A lot of terrible questions have been lurking in my head.

Why am I unable to string words together to form meaningful sentences? Why am I unable to produce stories out of my imagination? Am I waiting for an inspiration to appear from thin air? Or is this just a phase that’ll pass?

I have tried looking for reasons too.

Maybe it is because I am watching too much of Gossip Girl. I hit my head to the wall two weeks ago, maybe it is all that? Or perhaps I am waiting for something dramatic to happen in my life.

Funnily enough, I am able to do my writing work at office or the freelance ones. Of course, it might be the fear of not getting paid that is driving me to write them.

So, no more Gossip Girl. And no more binge watching sitcoms that are lame.

In fact, no more waiting for inspiration like Carrie Bradshaw.

Let’s see how this works.

P.S. I have a nostalgic post lined up in a day or two. Send me hate mail if I don’t blog regularly.

Writer's Block Is Not Really A Real Thing!

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”
― Sylvia Plath

OKAY.

I haven't been writing much these days. I mean, for the blog. I cannot literally claim that I haven't been writing anything at all because I make a living out of it.

I opened my laptop to write today only because I could not handle the conversations between my sister and her best friend. The conversations about relationships and breakups of their juniors in school.

Seriously, the only thing I cared about as a schoolgirl was having a set of Faber Castell’s colouring pens or math homework, and my world was all sorted. But the children these days, I tell you. They talk about serious relationships.

Girls, give me a break. Serious relationships are not something we decide on. They just happen. And I am not really sure if they happen when you are 16. But if they do, God bless you. You are missing out on all the fun.

Take it from a 23 year old. Alright?

I digress.

Alright, so, like I said, I haven't been writing much on my blog. I would like to blame my work for it, but, I cannot. Because I find everything so drab these days. You know what I mean?

It is just that 50 shades of grey is far more interesting than my life. 

Anyway. The first thing that came to my head was writer’s block. But writer’s block is not really a real thing. It does not even exist.

The second thing that came to my head was–maybe I needed major drama in my life. Or experience melancholia.

Rubbish.

I was just looking for reasons to avoid doing the one thing I love the most and I have no clue why.

So here's the deal-I am letting the hibernation mode go off the hook, and I will write a little more than often. If I don't, just send me some hate mail. 

That drama would surely slap some sense into my head.

Also, I am sorry to break your eternal bubble of imprecise thoughts. Writer's block isn't a real thing. Just pick that pen and paper and brew some stories today.

Because you need to.