Writer's Block

So I'm sitting at my computer wondering exactly what it is that I plan to say. To be quite honest, my mind is somewhat of a blank at the moment. I know that I want to write something but I just don't really know what that something is. I'm at the computer, thinking of what there is to say. I mean, I haven't put anything into my blog in a while, but the desire to want to have something there - the urge to have words written and an artform expressed - persuade me to do more than just look at the screen and hope for responses of old text. So in the spirit of fulfilling a need, I sit here and contemplate. I'm not quite sure just how long I've been thinking about what to type, nor am I certain of what all I've done as I've waited for an idea to come to me. I've managed to pull myself from my chair, eat a meal and watch a bit of TV, all the while searching for that inkling of inspiration, but alas I am without a topic or an idea of what to create and springforth into the blogging world.

So as I sit in Dallas, TX, I look outside and see Children's and Parkland Hospitals across I-35 South. The sounds of 18-wheelers and motorcyclists go zooming by. Interestingly enough is how I get up when I hear the sound of the motorcycles when they pass. They all seem to go shooting by, moreso in the southernly direction, at high speeds. My guess is because - at night - the law enforcement are few and far between, making the long stretch of 10-lane highway prime real estate for stunts, tricks and speed. The neat thing is when they all pass by in groups of 5 or more. I can peek out the window (as I'm sitting next to it) and watch them go by. There's a feeling of freedom in watching them, as I too ride - or at least used to. I know what it feels like to be saddled over a two-wheeled crotch rocket, with nothing but wind blowing in your direction (or force fed as the case normally is in this type of situation) and a blatant disregard for all those who can't keep up. It's a thrill, a privilege...and not one to be taken likely. Because just as soon as you're not respecting that privilege you become a wet spot on that real estate I spoke about earlier. And no one likes getting their car dirty after it was just cleaned.

I wonder how many will understand that last sentence.

I never quite realized that sometimes being stuck inside a hotel room with nothing to do could really open you up to things that you would normally not pay attention to or give a second thought towards. I've found that looking out the window and just watching things go by can be both peaceful and educational. For example, I've watched people turn the corners near the hotel and I've noticed that most drivers tend to make a left turn a lot faster than they do a right one. When the emergency copters are flown in to the hospitals across they street, they almost always land with their tail rotors pointed south. Each tree in front of my hotel is the exact same kind, and it's the same on the other side of I-35. There are three flag poles with a different flag on each. The wind is blowing but the American flag is catching more air than the other two, yet there is no obstruction to any of them. One of them isn't moving at all.

I wonder if other writers have serious writers block when they sit down to tell their stories. I wonder what kinds of inspiration they keep at their desk, or the different mantras they use to get their creative juices flowing. I always figured Stephen King had a combination of comic books and old Alfred Hitchcock movies to come up with some of the stuff he has. But inspiration is different for different people I guess. Some have a gift and others don't.

Perhaps some of them just sat in front of a window and looked out on the world...waiting for the flourescent light bulb above their noggin to light up.

As for me...I just wish I had something to say.