Are You Not Entertained! (Camp Nanowrimo 2017)

The hour is late…

I am only at 1.5k and need to hit at least 9k by midnight to catch up on what I’ve lost…

30-day challenge… one blog a day… challenge…

Easy so far, yet suddenly I’m in the coliseum and that fucker called Results is not pleased. His thumb is poised to raise the cage gate on my insecurities and short comings and…

FUCK!

Welcome to the Cerebral Hedonist… Here comes a fucking thought…

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Jaded Author: Bring it motherfucker…

 

Writer’s Block…

The dirtiest word in the book that makes hearts seize and months — even years of world building go up in flames both figuratively and often literally!

Yet, here I am on the fifth day of my challenge in which all of my thoughts, ideas, and literal fucking entire universes are pressed against my frontal lobe like a blood clot that will either be bled or kill me — either way it will find its release. So as creativity bleeds out of my nose and the droplets spill on the paper just as bright red as they would on the killing floor, I am writing.

And here comes you…

You stand there decked out in your ominous white, blinding me to all of the art at my fingertips that I merely need to reach the keyboard and you stiffen my fingers and blur my eyes to that which has always been mine, you fucking monster.

But oh how raw I am today, you actual son of a bitch.

Vulgar. Visceral. My guts are peaking through shredded skin from every hour I was kept from my work, for every knot in my back that twisted me just the wrong way, and the opium den that is fatigue caressing my face and telling me to stay.  Regardless, I am here because as weak as I am to all those things, I am at my best when I am being held back and told I can’t do it…. even when its by myself…

And then you waltz into my arena, armor so shiny like a demigod when you’re not but a nickel-plated piece of shit who doesn’t know what ferality you’ve evolved in me over years of torture and thumbs down that have flayed me open until my core has healed back so strong it could cut mythril.

You stand there the pale warrior in my way and Results is sitting on his pompous, self – entitled, tear-drinking ass watching me watching you watching me.

Not today, you bastard…

Because my imagination and blood soaked ink keep my vigil and keep my body and you will not bar me or blind me to what I’ve come for.

If you think you have me, I’m coming for you.

If you think I’ve given up, you’re already dead.

Yes, you are that boogeyman that steals the creativity and progress from every writer before they have a chance to raise a pen against you. But you can’t match me…

My monster is the worst of abominations and when you look upon that which you cannot blind because eyes are both endless and omniscient, my creature does not even bother to look down on you! Because what is a Concept to an Ambiguity!

My creature is called resolve… and you have already begun to claw your eyes out from your own limitations in its face.

Your limitations… are my flavor of victory…

Are you entertained yet?

— Harli V. Park —

This is what happens when Writer’s Block comes knocking at my door. It hardly ever wins these days. Hope you enjoyed your cup of weirdness for the day. I did it! Day 5 of Camp Nanowrimo 2017. I got a few thousand words to complete in 2hrs so I need to get on that! Can you match my resolve? Goddamn right you can’t. 

Tell me what your writer’s block looks like for you!

Don’t forget these exist and follow me for more of my bleeding on the keyboard. G’night everyone!

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