One more word. That’s all it takes, just one more word and you’ve completed a page.
It tried to destroy you, the never-ending block. Tried to invade your mind and plant poison among your creative children. It tried to descend on you with claws and rip to shreds the ideas you once formed in your head. Tried to whisper doubt into being, to intwine itself in your cerebral cortex and leave no room for imagination. It was going to destroy you with two-faced phrases.
You first met the block in middle school. It shook your hand and stabbed your heart. It festered in your plans for the future and stole your innocent ideas when your back was turned. It seemed kind at first, gave you welcomed advice on your ideas.
“Just wait until tomorrow,” It hissed. “Your ideas are always better tomorrow”
It taught you to doubt yourself, slowly turning confidence into recompense. It taught you to wait, to worry about sharing. It took the mountain you placed on your shoulders and turned it to everest, turned dreams into nightmare.
But. You. Kept. Typing.
You. Kept. Painting.
Through sleepless nights you typed on, through worry and fear your brush still moved. Your mountain was still the size of Everest, but every word, every wrist flick was the next acclimation camp. Your fear was your M.O. and It became your inspiration.
You. Kept. On.
Just one more word.