Blocked

Recently, I was told that in order to write again that I needed to choose a place that represented the pain I felt before I was blocked. Let me explain. I used to write a lot of poetry, mostly for myself, but I did write a lot. That was before my mom passed away three years ago. Since then, I have found it difficult to put pen to paper in that way. Even more odd, is that before mom passed, I was in what I would call a happy life. Nothing had gone horribly wrong. I was in school. I had my family and friends. Everything was hunky dory and yet the darkest parts of my soul came out in my writing. Yet, now, when everything is broken and torn, I cannot seem to write.

So that brings us back to this conversation. A wise man asked me if I ever felt things, heard words that called to my soul and terrified me. Well, honestly, his words terrified me, but I realized he was right. Whenever I would write I was always surprised and scared by the things that I had written. It was so odd to be writing such depressing work when I myself had no depression. So this man suggested that I find a place to write that represented my pain. He suggested an abandoned warehouse or place with awful smells to evoke my pain and feelings. I was completely scared by this and still am. Yet, this intrigues me. 

So for this weekend I am going to try and do that. I just wanted to post this update of my life and hope that by doing this I can get back to writing.

BYE!

-BP