Dear Writers Block,
It’s not you, it’s me. I have become lazy and undisciplined about my craft. I have allowed you to think it was okay to stay here when really, it’s not good for me. I should have told you sooner, I know but my sloth-like behavior got the better of me and I became comfortable with you being here. I have several projects that desperately need my attention and your presence here isn’t really helping at all, it’s hindering. My problem is my brain, it used to be set up perfectly for writing—now it’s a fog of racing thoughts and overwhelming doubt.
As I said before, it’s definitely me. I think I allowed you to become an easy excuse to avoid these projects (one of which I’ve been working on since I was fucking 16—talk about procrastination..) because I guess I’m scared to finish it. What’s next? What if it doesn’t amount to anything? Why did I spend all that time and all those years obsessing over every detail? I have never done well with the future, it gives me anxiety—I don’t know what’s going to happen and that scares me to the point of procrastination. I figure if I draw out the process it will give me a chance to predict what’s going to happen, which is dumb because the universe is, in it’s very nature, unpredictable. I know I have the talent, I know I’ve worked my entire life at this, I know that I can do it but the ringing voice in my ear is like trying to have a conversation at a death metal concert.
I want to write, I want to create, this is what I live for—but fuck it’s scary. I now know why so many artist struggled with depression and other mental illnesses—and why they drank so much. It’s because the very act of creating is a trial by fire, a battle within the soul, and you’re relying on nothing but your passion to guide you. I can’t do it while you’re here Writer’s Block. I need to do some soul searching by myself and I need to clear the fog within my mind. I don’t think I see us getting back together, I can’t say we won’t have a one night stand every now and then but I don’t wish to continue this relationship. I hope you understand, I need to create, I need it to survive. I need it because I want to write like I’m running out of time. I wrote my way out of you, now it’s time to write my way out of my fog.