Dear Writer’s Block,

It’s not you, it’s me

As evidenced by that atrocious comma splice right there.  Well, writer’s block, it’s been fun.  You’re something that has stuck by my side when all other life experiences are transient.  You cling to my brain like that subdural hematoma that I actually don’t have.  It would almost be nice if I did, since then I’d have an excuse for my brain functioning at such a sub-par level.

Writer’s block, I’ve wanted to shake you the way I shook Jordan. Whoops.  I guess that was a little too straightforward.

Please don’t cry! I’m sorry.  I’ll buy you flowers.  Fuck, why are you such a sensitive little bitch? Justin Beiber probably cried less than you when he got in the head with a water bottle.  No, writer’s block, I -don’t- think we need couple’s counseling, actually. Thank you very much.

Right. I was supposed to be pretending it was me, not you.  Well, we all know how much people mean it when they say that anyway.  After all this time together, I feel like we should at least be honest with each other.  And if you’d like to complain about how rambly I am, just remember: it actually IS your fault.  This drawn-out letter would have been so much shorter if you’d just left me be the first time I tried to break up with you!

Well, anyway.  I’ve got some memories (I’d be lying if I said they’re fond), and I imagine you do too.  If not, that’s okay.  I don’t need you thinking about me once I’m gone anyway.  It will just make you want to come back.  Stay away, writer’s block, or I swear, this time I’ll actually get a restraining order.  There are plenty other writers who need you more than I do.  So get going! And don’t let the door hit you on the way out!

But, y’know, take care and all that.





I think answering the daily prompts will help me relieve some stress.  Maybe someday I’ll even gain some creativity.  We can only hope.

I constantly argue with my father that my music is NOT noise.  But I guess I have to pretend to concede that opinion if I’m going to explain the noise in my brain.  It’s all music.

I’m one of those people who claims that music is my anti-drug or maybe that it’s saved my life.  That second part might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s helped me not go crazy about the fact that it didn’t save my sister’s life.

There are so many songs that I’m constantly thinking of- and maybe that mashup is how it becomes “noise”, even if separately those songs are all worth defending as not-noise.

Music is such a cliche to be cluttering my brain.  What, I’m not going to argue that silence is driving me insane? Or maybe the voices in my head, like everyone else?

Despite my depression, those voices are pretty insignificant compared to the cacophony of other voices that remind me of all the things that sometimes I might be better off forgetting.  Should I really hear some crappy rap song and think of my first serious boyfriend?  Should I hear Mayday Parade and be shattered over Shauna? Should I hear a country song and think of my current boyfriend and how much he loves me and how happy I make him when he originally believed he’d be unhappy and alone his whole life? Should I hear so many other songs (which happen to be playing on my Pandora, thanks for making a playlist that’s seriously every meaningful song to the point where I can’t think about my english paper or anything meaningful and am just barraged with a slew of feelings about entirely unrelated topics?) and think about Ty, or my wish to be a rock star that’ll never come true, or a memory of something horrible my parents said to me, or something that makes me think about how worthless I’ve believed I am for years on end, or something that other people believe in that I’m confused about, or how there are so many awful things in the world and I just want to be living in a storybook, or how even when I know exactly what I’m feeling, I really have no idea at all?

The worst noise is the dream I had the other morning.  It was a distorted version of a song that means a lot to me, as many songs do.  Distorted because I was singing it, and that’s a song I really butcher, as opposed to just normally butchering.

Distorted through the tears of dream-me.

The song was “Forever and Always” by Parachute.  And it’s led to a lot of noise since that dream/nightmare.  All the other songs have faded into the background, even though they usually jumble together to leave me too many things to think about.  It’s one song, and it’s the worst noise I’ve ever experienced.

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