Billie over at Mystic Lit asks if there is such a thing as writer's block. I'm beginning to be a believer in it. I have spent all but about five hours of the past three days at the hospital with my dad. I've had lots and lots of time to write volumes, on my blog, on others' blogs, stories, poetry, letters, whatever. But every time I turn on the computer, I find myself at a loss as to what to write about.
I think this is similar to when you write in a journal every day and face the blank page with a blank mind every now and then. So you start by saying, "I don't know what to write," and you write about not knowing what to write!
Maybe I'm tired from grabbing sleep two hours at a time. Maybe my writing muse has vanished in the noise of machines, and people in pain, and nurses and doctors asking questions, and the television, and beep beep beep click click click rubber soles on squeaky clean tile twenty-four hours a day. Maybe my mind is trying to absorb all the instructions of doctors and nurses and techs and, of course, family.
But the bottom line is I don't know what to write.
(published at my most magical time: 11:11)