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“Writing about a writer’s block is better than not writing at all.” I would go with this quote by Charles Bukowski and go ahead with it in the hope that in the process, I might succeed in overpowering the unseen force that has been stirring my inside, causing an indescribable restlessness.
I believed, an idea, when strikes, has to be pursued till the time it ripens enough to be implemented. Similarly, a thought has to be hunted till the time it grows weary of wandering through the known and the lesser known landscapes of the brain.
Jeffery Deaver claimed, “I’ve often said that there’s no such thing as writer’s block; the problem is idea block.” I suffer from an illness of a different kind. The thoughts come rushing in with such intensity, it gets impossible to hold them from flowing through my veins, creating rhythms and the tunes to which my senses dance knowing no boundaries. But the moment I come to fathom them, another slips in with even more vigor; and the latter casts the previous under a shadow. This never ending combat drains out the will to lend those ideas the shape they were meant to be carved in.
The key, I figure, is to let them flow and follow the path they choose to. They will reside in you, if they are meant to, till the moment will arrive for them to emerge and get immersed into the ocean of your imagination and the freedom of expression liberating you as well as the thought that created a havoc inside you.