Self Image, Short Stories

Writers Block

She was feeling sub-optimal.

Like she was peeking through a copse of trees in the woods and observing someone else’s picnic.

And yet she was meant to be one of the guests.

Everything was laid out in front of her. A buffet of opportunities, people and equipment and yet her brain wouldn’t let her put the puzzle together. It didn’t want her to solve her own riddle.

No. Instead it wanted to tell her that she wasn’t good enough. That she didn’t deserve the kind of happiness that came with fluttery first loves and the yellow reflection of a buttercup on your chin.

Her summer nights were becoming winter ones in mere moments. And with the dusty tomes that littered her bookshelves, their stories so much more interesting than hers, her writing that would never compete with these magnum opus’ -she deemed her life worthless

And these thoughts plagued her, like rats gnawing at her lifeless corrupt body believing her to be dead when really she was just comatose.

With the pages of a thousand would-be-could-be novels littering the floor she sat and cried, smudging the ink and scrapping her efforts before she had even started.

She was constantly comparing herself to others and had a habit of turning everything into a competition. If she could just muster up some of that tinker bell fairy dust to fill her with optimism and motivation then the sandstorm of words that were inside of her might one day come tumbling out onto paper.

And that was the day that the half written chapter of her life became finished. It was when she finally looked up at the paper sky, breathed life into a balloon and flew up to cloud nine.

It was there that the girl found an empty notebook and a pen. With these tools she looked down on the blank empty abyss that she had been stuck in for so long and wrote herself out of it. She created a new world of sunshine and bliss with the occasional thrilling twist thrown into prove it to be a riveting roller coaster read.

She sunk into the pages of her new reality, dusting the cobwebs from her lonely corner of her old universe and making it anew.

 

-E