A Subtle Block—Overcome · 6:09am Nov 7th, 2019

I don't really get my hesitation to begin writing. It's like there's some invisible force stopping me from trying, from doing—from succeeding. Even in the writing of this passage, I see no cause for worry, for the words flow and my mind is waiting to be blown by some fucking macro.

Could it be the person that I am writing all of this for? An idol? Of course, writing while imaging his eyes, watching me type has always made the act harder. In reverse, I often find that, when writing for people who cannot tell between good or bad, that I can allow myself to write, no matter what, for there is no expectation of quality upon the product.

But more than all of this, deep down inside the core of my being, I think... I am set for failure. That I have finally made the proper strides toward something better, something organized and productive and, in needing to be a failure, my mind invents such obstructions.

It isn't the fault of my mind, although it plays these tricks, but of the self, a wounded one, a collection of mist pouring as a person, wounded by some stake, some sphere, some stabbed wound that prevents from being whole.

And this figure, due to that wound—which is a collection of the many slashes endured through life—causes the mind, the perception of the eyes, to see and think through the lens of this pain. A horrible, apparent truth true to me.

Rage and hatred, yelling and shouting, crying and dreading.

Those things do no such good for such a problem. You do not blame the wound for hurting, for bleed—you tend to it. Wrapping a bandage to heal it, to protect it from further harm, that is what one should do with this matter.

Not a matter of blaming yourself, or the wound, neither those who caused it. But understanding it and healing it, continuing through the resistance with but a smile, going on, knowing, every step forward is an inch of the cut now recovered with skin.

And in writing this, my mental block—lasting no longer than ten minutes—has been lifted.

Writing. Art. Creating and expressing. Wonderful things.