Writers Block

Monday morning and it was the twenty fifth day of the month. Zoba had planned the month to go real straight and smooth for her. Basically, she would have enough time to finish up her book which she had started since the beginning of the year and couldnt continue because of exams and school. Of course, her ideas were still as fresh as ever because she was writing her own autobiography. She wanted to start it when she was still very yong so that everyday, she would add something new to it but, due to lack of time, she couldnt.

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Cold as the morning, fresh breeze waltzed into Carmela's room. The sun, a beautiful orange with some hues of yellow, welcoming the day and the dew that fell on the flowers reminded one of tears that roll down a cheek...

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The rainbow ushered in a new smile on her face and she accepted that she was through with all the clumsiness and sadness she had taught herself to feel. She embraced what looked like a good life after all the hurtful experiences she had had. Her relationships were'nt working and her job was no longer paying. Who eevn said that crap about V-logging again?

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On and on and on and on I go everyday when something strikes me on the way to school, with my first spoon o rice travelling down my throat, during choir rehearsals, when Im about to put off the lights of the house and go to sleep. All these things come to me as sizzling and hot as they are but, some times, they just come around my head and do some little barbie dances and waltz out again. This is the life of a writer and this is what is known as the writer's block. 

Dont ever insult a writer. You read something you dont like, say it as nicely as you can because it really is not easy to make people read what you wrote and even enjoy it.

Thanks for reading!