It begins with the tiniest shadow of a doubt, that I have nothing original left to say. That niggling feeling, proceeds to insidiously, yet viciously, spread it's tentacles through my already unsettled mind, leaving me quite certain, that I'm devoid of compelling ideas.
The sheet of paper before me, appears so blindingly white, that I'm forced to look away. My favorite fountain-pen, is heavy with unused ink.
"Ah! Writer's block!" I self-diagnose, recognizing it's familiar and debilitating symptoms.
I begin to completely resent my blog. "What on earth possessed me to commit to a regular writing project?" I wonder.
Other writers fill me with a raw and unflattering envy. "How come SHE has so much to say, while I have NOTHING? I must be really lazy." I complain.
"It's Adil's fault!" I declare, accusingly, "Life with a toddler is known to rob you of your creativity."
Eventually, I bore myself, with this random and pointless speculation. I decide to see what happens, if I just type out these words and thoughts.
I hit 'publish', before I have time to re-think, hoping that I might have just unblocked my block.
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