When I was younger, I had this friend whose parents brought home a small dog – not exactly a puppy but not fully grown either. It was a pretty beagle with a brown, white and black coat of fur.
He had romantic ideas about how he and the dog would have good times. How he would walk him in the evenings as he nodded at everyone he passed on the road. He thought he would be very cool and would pick up ladies with the help of his dog, like in the movies.
Let’s just say, that never really did happen. The dog would not walk an inch from their gate. It just sat there looking at him stupidly. And he would struggle on several occasions trying to drag the dog, begging, petting and scolding but no.
Much like his dog, sometimes life refuses to move.
You find yourself stuck, staring at a blank word processing document and coming up with squat.
Most people call it writers’ block.
But am abnormal so I won’t call it that.
Like Hank in the ShowTime hit series Californication, I will call it a crisis-of-confidence.
Everything I have been trying to write down for the last week feels fake and tasteless. Like it is not the product of my brain-hand coordination. I have selected Ctrl + A several times and pressed the Bckspc so many times in the last four days.
As I wait for my confidence to come back. I have to post this, so that my two regular readers don’t go hungry this week. It should also help me share my crisis, if you will. After all, a problem shared is a problem half solved, si ndio?
Bear with me as I sort my mental faculties and bang better copy.
I pray the dog will finally grow the decency to take a walk with me.