#writersofumblr

“Düşmanımın düşmanı dostumdur” derler ya…

Bazı insanlar vardır, aynı acıyı yaşamadan birbirini anlayamaz.

Aynı ihaneti görenler, aynı karanlıktan geçenler birbirine sessizce omuz olur.

Biz belki aynı yolda başlamadık ama aynı maskeleri gördük.

Sahte gülüşlerin, arkadan konuşanların, huzur bozan insanların ne olduğunu öğrendik.

Ve bazen gerçek dostluk; en mutlu günlerde değil, en kirli yüzler ortaya çıktığında kurulur.

İçerden destek olan, sessizce yanında duran herkes değerlidir.

Çünkü bu hayatta herkes konuşur…

Ama çok az insan gerçekten yanında durur.

Anladım ki;

kan bağı değil, karakter bağı insanı yakın yapıyor.

Ve bazı dostluklar savaşın içinden doğuyor.

Yanımda olan herkese teşekkür ederim.

getting close to him meant getting burned… but i never learned to stay away.

You know that moment when you sit down to write something? The document is open. But that dreaded cursor just blinks there waiting. And your mind is totally blank, as blank as the page in front of you.

Earlier, your mind was bursting with ideas. Especially late at night in bed, when you're not even in the mood to write.

But when it comes to actually writing, it's like you've never had an idea in your entire life.

I always thought I had the "blank page problem", otherwise known as Blank Page Syndrome, because I had no ideas at all. That perhaps those late-night ideas belonged to someone else. And that I, in my actively-thinking state, had no ideas of my own.

But no thats not it. Ideas are there somewhere. It's just getting the first words out that feels impossible.

It seems like the blank page thing has more to do with some kind of block in your head than actual creativity drying up. A few reasons pop up when you think about it psychologically.

Your brain looks at the empty space and figures its this huge mountain to climb. So overwhelm grabs you. Then you stress over making that opening sentence perfect. Perfectionism makes you hesitate. And on top of that you feel like someone is watching. Even if its just you judging yourself. Pressure builds up fast.

That is why sitting there staring does not help. It tires you out more than you would expect. You are not out of thoughts. You are just pushing back against starting. Doing nothing starts to seem safer than messing it up somehow.

I have been thinking about how to actually push through writers block.

One way is to break it down into something really small, smaller than what you normally do. Like, dont try to write a whole story or anything big. Just aim for one sentence. I read somewhere that research backs this up, how splitting tasks into tiny pieces cuts down on that paralysis and helps build some momentum. It seems kind of obvious once you try it. Momentum beats perfection every time.

Writing badly on purpose feels weird at first, but it actually works better than staring at a blank page. Its easier to fix something thats already there than to pull perfection out of nowhere. Give yourself permission to make it embarrassing in the draft, since no one has to see it anyway. That takes the pressure off.

The first draft is you telling the story to yourself. It's okay if the first draft makes no sense at all; it's only for your eyes. So who cares if you spelled a few words wrong? Who cares if that one sentence is ugly?

You're just carving out a block of marble to work with. You can chisel it to perfection later. But you can't chisel perfection without an ugly block of marble first.

Another thing is freewriting to warm up. Set a timer for ten minutes, and just keep the words coming without stopping or editing or overthinking. It bypasses that inner voice that blocks everything, gets the flow going again. I think that part is important, because once words are out, its harder to stay stuck. Once your brain is in the flow, it doesn't like to leave.

It's like taking a shower when you were a kid. You dreaded the shower. You hated getting ready, picking your clothes, adjusting the water, etc. But once you were in the shower, you didn't want to leave.

Anyway, sometimes siting in the same spot creates the block,. So change it up, move to the couch or the floor, maybe even a coffee shop if you can. Small shifts like that break the mental rut and can spark ideas you did not see before. Observing people out and about is one of the greatest source of inspiration. Some of the best stories are written from unusual places.

In conclusion, the words are still inside somewhere. They are just waiting for you to stop judging them. Let them be ugly. Let them be caterpillars. Then, when the time is right, those words will emerge as beautiful butterflies. But you must give them (and yourself) that precious breathing room.

Everything said instead — words.

Sunshine, my barista of choice, sleeps somewhere in my mind, returns nowhere within reach.

Priestess — your smile, your words, still arranged in me like something I once meant.

I stay behind the line, take what is given, leave it there.

Only this: I said it. It remains.

One mistake I see (and have made)?

Starting the story before the story actually starts.

Pages of setup. Backstory. Normal life.

But where’s the shift? The moment that changes everything?

“luck followed me around in the shape of a man.”

"She’s the Only Luck I Need"