I haven’t written in over 2 months. I haven’t even been inspired to come up with a single poetic syllable. It feels like I lost my mojo or my muse left me high and dry. But then again, I do think of writing every day. My heart, my head and my fingers twitch every second.
I keep telling myself, maybe I’ve finally experienced what they call ‘the writers block’. At least I’d like to think that’s the problem. But something tells me its more than that. I’ve been known to over think things and over-analyze every situation. I guess this is one of those situations huh? Maybe it is, maybe it’s not, who knows..
All I can say is, I lost my Mojo and it’ll be good to find it in someone’s ‘lost and found box’ somewhere somehow. I started this blog to get my poetry out there, and it’s been a beautiful experience, but then two books later and I’m wanting more. Not just poetry but J. K Rowlings’ kind of deal.
I started working on a sci-fi book last year but somehow my storyline keeps taking different forms. I find myself constantly comparing the plots to something I’ve seen in any sci-fi fantasy movie I watch lately, and In a bid to be overly creative and different, I end up wearing myself out.
However, for the last 2 months, it’s been completely silent in my head. No new ideas for a scene or plot. Not even a poetry line comes to mind. Then today I heard someone use the phase “Fake it till you make it” and it got me thinking. Can you fake your way through creativity. Can you have poetry without the passion and emotion? or can you create that masterpiece of a storyline without your creative juices flowing or while your ‘Mojo’ is still missing. Perhaps it takes discipline.
I mean I’ve had to fake an orgasm multiple times just to get it over with, but I never thought it was possible to fake creativity just to keep going???? Is it really possible?
Not saying anyone really does fake creativity and I know what you’re probably gonna say next is; “It’ll come back to you when it does”.. but what if it doesn’t? Is this what happens to dead dreams? You hear about people never getting to make their dreams a reality and you cant help but wonder what happened. Or you hear about one hit wonders and you wonder how they ended up in the archives of time and forgotten memories.
I know I’m over thinking the simplest of things again, but I cant help but think. I really do believe I may have been a Greek philosopher in my past life.
That being said. Thanks for visiting my blog. Be sure to buy my book here —> (Poetry My Love) and follow me on Twitter @GloriaE
I’ll try to write a little more often. Hopefully my Mojo will find its way home again 🙂
They say a picture says a thousand words.. Well I guess I’ve found a way to extract 15 thousand words from 1 picture and keep this fiction writing thing exciting and immensely enthralling.
As a kid, art was my obsession. From graffiti to animation and sketch, I could draw anything and everything. However, my lovely parents seemed to think it was a waste of time and a nuisance. So I did stop drawing just to please them….
Thanks to modern-day technology and the almighty App Store, I’ve found ways to indulge my obsession for art and animation.. What’s better though Is; my mind seems to have found a way to stare at a single picture and tell an entire story..
All I can say is; Art is beauty and beauty is art.
She stared into outer space hoping to catch a glimpse of the gods she heard stories about as a child,
but all she saw were stars twinkling with so much beauty it was breathtaking.
She wondered if there was life out there.
If those who lived in those twinkling stars looked down every once in a while.
Her heart ached to live in far away galaxies,
to be amongst the gods,
to explore the heavens,
to be one with the universe…
She wished to know the unknown,
to touch the stars.
To behold the beauty of the very essence of life.
If her heart could beat any faster, it would literally implode.
Suddenly she was startled by the loud horns of a passing train.
Suddenly, it was back to reality,
Back to the boring emptiness that is life on earth.
The pain of love
The aches of loneliness in a room full of people.
The bland taste of nothingness.