A big Blank

Hodges, Adena. “Thoughtful Businessman With Blank Thought Bubble.” Meditate On Me, meditateonme.com/using-imagination-biblical/thoughtful-businessman-with-blank-thought-bubble/.








“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. This absolutely sucks. Why do I even have to write this stupid story?”

I'm sitting at my desk staring at the computer screen, thinking and thinking about what to write and blank. As soon as I think about anything my mind goes BLANK! It’s like my brain is a big bad monster repelling creativity and ideas and it's sneakily whispering to any incoming thoughts:

“If you come any closer you will suffer a slow and painful death…”

Woohoo, hello?? - It feels as if I'm suffering the slow and painful death here. How long can this possibly take? This makes no sense... I can usually think of something that can be used, but I guess not this time! It has now been four hours twenty-three minutes and twenty-seven seconds and nothing.

So again, I'm sitting at my table trying to think of an idea for this story but nothing comes up. My dog keeps barking and I was about writing a whole story about my dog or a story from his point of view because he is so annoying. Something along the lines of - This place stinks, the food's average, and I saw a cat outside that window that I’m dying to scare. But this girl seems to be ignoring me, so let me bark a little louder.

“Bark bark.”

“Be quiet, Chief. I’ll take you on a walk the second I finish my homework”

“Bark bark bark bark.”

“Shush Chief, I'm trying to think of an idea for a short story”

That didn’t work. Who would want to read a story with no real conflict? I mean a dog that wants to chase a cat? No thank you.

Chief’s gone but my sister just came inside my room asking for some help with her homework. It’s crazy how much homework first graders get today. They spend longer than an hour each night with the number of times they have to reread each passage. What if I write about a first grader who gives up on homework and runs away to surprisingly become a multi-millionaire overnight? That would never work.

There goes by another hour and a half of my time trying to write this and still nothing good. Being sick is not beneficial either. I am coughing constantly without any power to stop just to get that annoying itch out of your throat. Just imagine starting a conversation and it ends up like this: “Hey Debby, I *cough* heard you *cough* moved to a new house *cough* *cough* *cough* *cough*”

“Yes honey, actually we are moving this weekend, are you okay? I just hope you don’t get me sick!” Debby said in disgust.

“Ha ha, me too. Let's hope for the best!” she said embarrassed.

Not fun. Although, a story about someone sick miraculously becoming healthy would be nice for a change with all these stories about deaths. I am trying to write this story about a girl who finds a cure for a deadly disease, but it sounds so cliche and repetitive. Scratch that.

Once again I position myself at my escritoire staring at a blank document. I want to write this story on time so badly; meanwhile, by the looks of it, I will be arriving empty-handed to class if a magical idea doesn't pop up soon. Six hours, forty-two minutes, and fifty-seven seconds and still nothing. And then it hit me, I’ll write about...