The past few weeks, maybe months, have been a struggle with overcoming writer’s block. The words used to come so easily until they stopped and I wanted them to come back because they made me feel important. The words were there for me when no one else was. I could read them, manipulate them, and throw them back as grenades on paper to represent my emotional anguish and sometimes, confusing self-hatred.
Where was all of that now? The feelings that plagued me usually came with free words, but maybe my system had updated and the words were now covered by screaming neon advertisements or a necessary payment I hadn’t needed before. Where were all the words?

Sometimes, I would find a few and write them down before they had a chance to escape. I picked them up and placed them into a folder on my computer named “Rants to Develop” where they could be safe. Eventually, I imagined editing them and polishing them to become a true realization of something I created by mixing and matching the words I had found in a scavenger hunt. The sad fact is, I couldn’t.
The words that used to ache in my core to be turned into something sparkling and amazing faded from my memory and remained locked in the vault where they were trapped instead of protected. I never edited them and when I did look at them, I wagged fingers and deemed them unacceptable for other minds to hear.
These words are mine and no one else’s, so who am I to condemn my own words to a bottomless pit where they will remain forever untouched? Perhaps in their blocked fragility and rawness, they are beautiful in a different way. I could bring up the words and expose them as how they were born. Words should not be demonized, but saved.
Yet, classes and finals and everything took over, forcing me to read and learn new things, experience new moments, and live life untethered by the words that so often used to float around in my head. Throughout the semester, I was busy, unfocused, and conformed to something that I was determined to work hard at – college. However, towards the end, as I’m just realizing now, the words came back!
Like ducks flying home after the winter months, my words flew right back into the pond of my writing and whispered crazy ideas into my mind. What about this? Maybe this and this and that thing you learned last week really mean this when we put it all together. Look at that plant! We can describe it compared to a bird (Really, I have a succulent that reminds me of a vagina).
I used to spend time focused on something I wanted and wrote about that, without straying from the task at hand. Perhaps in spite of recent events and poor instruction, my writer’s confidence had dissipated. I had treated my words as poor professors and peers had treated me, but after an entire semester of great professors and massive improvement of myself as a person, I’ve revived my will to write because I’ve realized once again that I matter, I am good, and I am awesome.
Thoughts like these make me afraid of graduating college because what if this happens again and I stay uninspired for the rest of my life? How would I come out of it?
The purpose of the post was to publish something – anything, after my long span of shitty writing and writer’s block just to let the words out for some fresh air. This is raw, unedited writing and it feels good to again feel the breeze . . . finally.