Lately, writing something for this blog has been a little difficult for me. I have been trying to come up with something but failed miserably, there are times when I wish everything loitering in my head could just easily flow into my fingers as I type away on my keyboard. You know, like that scene in Jane the Virgin when she gets all those creative juices and words keep flying all over her head as she finishes her thesis. Yeah, some of you are too cool for Jane but Jane gives me the giggles; her whole life is amazing. I mean imagine getting pregnant for a very hot billionaire that you have always crushed on then refusing to marry him because you love your ex who is willing to stick with you through your pregnancy? Who even writes this stuff? (There’s a joke in here, will find it later) Can they write it for my life? I am in need of some billionaire loving right now.
Anyways, back to the point of this useless miserable piece. None of that is happening to me, in fact; even reading other people’s blogs as they do the “Ntinda” chain (Props to you guys though!) has not inspired any form of creative juice to spew up from my brain. I am not even having a creative slump or anything because writing work articles seems not to be hard, I write most of them within an hour and then reread just to make sure I have everything sorted. So something else must be happening, the voices in my head have been too quiet lately. Maybe they finally got tired of me being louder than them and they left me, just like that as if I did not mean a thing to them. *sniff*
Fiction flows through my fingers like a silk gown on soft skin whenever I take it up. I always seem to finish a fictitious piece within minutes but after I post and someone asks me if I can write more of those, my mind decides to play games. Very blank games! It should be what I am writing right now but, I felt like whining for you people something Kwezi Tabaro seems to call a rant. I am going to rant to him one of these days so that he learns the actual meaning. Hi Kwezi.
All those people sending out beautiful pieces woven with words that capture the mind make me hug my pillow at night and cry in useless mode. I have decided that for the coming few weeks, I will be writing something even if it is less wordy than usual. I am a writer and I am supposed to write even if it makes no sense the way this stupid piece doesn’t.