Let's see if you can pick up on any of the irony of it without me having to tell you.
Here it be:
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Writer’s block…it happens.
Asjdfjkl;
Sitting at a computer; staring at the screen. Pressing random keys, hoping an idea will show itself. Counting on that big thought to magically dig itself out of the subconscious and manifest itself on the screen.
It doesn’t.
Suddenly, a spark of inspiration. A few lines appear on the screen.
Complete shit….and BACKSPACE.
Deleting what could possibly have been the beginning of an amazing writing because it wasn’t perfect. Perfection does not come in drafts and re-writes. Did Mozart re-write? Did Mozart make corrections? NO.
Time passes.
You get a hint of what you might be thinking and type it as fast as you can before you forget it:
He entered the room and hung his coat on the rack. He strolled over to the desk, sat down and fingered through the mountain of paperwork that yet needed to be completed.
“Shit,” he mouthed to himself, realizing how much work had to be done by 2pm. He started working.
Two hours passed and he wasn’t even half done. Just then, his wife called.
What is this?! Total crap that’s what! I mean how cliché can you possibly get? Some dude walks in, sits down, and gets stressed out immediately by a “mountain of paperwork.” Talk about over-used metaphors. And he even remains nameless. How quaint. How cliché. How stupid.
BACKSPACE. It’s like it never even existed. Clean slate, second (third) chance…make good use of it.
Thinking.
What time is it?
Did I tip that waitress earlier today? No…I didn’t. I’m a douche.
FOCUS!
Right…the screen. Wow, I wonder how many pixels there are on this screen.
FOCUS!
Alright, time for the typewriter. No pixels to count on that. No instant messaging, email, or anything of that junk either.
Oh, wait, The EX just said “Hello” via the beautiful instant messaging service.
[00:34] andheartstimesten: Hi, Matt
Should I respond?
[00:36] xSoTuffx: uh…hi
I’m a puss.
[00:36] andheartstimesten: how have you been?
[00:37] xSoTuffx: fine
[00:37] andheartstimesten: im sorry things ended the way they did
[00:39] xSoTuffx: yeah…
[00:40] andheartstimesten: yeah…what?
[00:43] xSoTuffx: nevermind
[00:44] andheartstimesten: oh…
[00:48] andheartstimesten: so, whats up
[00:49] xSoTuffx: writin
[00:49] andheartstimesten: writin what
[00:51] xSoTuffx: my suicide note
[00:52] andheartstimesten: …that’s not fair, matt
[00:53] xSoTuffx: youre right, ill just forget the fact that you lied to me
[00:55] andheartstimesten: im sorry
[00:55] xSoTuffx: well sorry doesnt quite cut it!
[00:55] andheartstimesten: what more do you want me to say?!
[00:56] xSoTuffx: i want to know what the hell i did wrong that made you cheat on me!
[00:56] xSoTuffx: did i not call you enough? did i need to be more snesitive to your
[01:04] andheartstimesten: it wasn’t you, it was me
And…sign off. Can you believe that? “It wasn’t you, it was me.” Lamest line ever by far. Like I haven’t heard that at the end of every single relationship I’ve ever been in! Whatever. To hell with her. Glad her and “James” are so happy.
My God…I’m emo. Suicide note? What the F? I should know there’s no answer that will satisfy me. For all I know, it could actually be her, and not me. I am an A-hole.
Anyway… where was I? Oh, yeah, typewriter. F the typewriter, I don’t feel like digging around in my closet for it.
